


All of You

by Fearfxl



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boxing, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2019-08-07 13:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16409384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fearfxl/pseuds/Fearfxl
Summary: Grimmjow. The name alone has a number of responses. Most call to him, attempt to contain him, others let it leave their lips with admiration. Though never has he heard it called carefully, gently, as though a slip of the tongue would tarnish it. He aims to douse himself in fame, reveling in all its spoils, but will fame be enough for her? For them? [GrimmOC, Boxing AU.]





	1. The First

"Make this quick, Grimmjow," Ichigo instructed as he readied the boxer in the locker room. A silent Grimmjow merely stared forward, focused, intent on defeating his opponent. "I don't want any foul-ups. We're to get in here, and get out. Got it?" He inquired, obscuring Grimmjow's field of vision by stepping in front of him. Grimmjow opened and closed his hands, testing the athletic wrap. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He straightened just slightly, his stance secure. Ichigo helped him don his gloves, black in color, to match the waistband of his white shorts.

His orange-haired trainer also helped him into his robe—sleek, black, with white lining and his name emblazoned across the back—careful to keep communication short. Very seldom did Grimmjow have to be told the same thing twice before he grew annoyed, but, as Ichigo was used to, it wasn't clear the boxer got the message, or was only focusing on the fact that someone was bossing him around. "Ready?" Ichigo chanced, all-too familiar with the hostile air Grimmjow let off. Grimmjow merely grunted in response as Ichigo, as well as the seconds, followed him out. 

The crowd was sizable, but being the greedy man he was, he knew Grimmjow would complain about the turnout. _The guy's never satisfied..._ Ichigo thought, his frown deepening as he trailed Grimmjow, who eased his way through excited fans, reaching out to pat the boxer's shoulders, to cheer him on, to psych him up. Grimmjow's cold, blue-eyed gaze stayed trained upon the ring, toward which his opponent had yet to make his way. He climbed up, pulling on the ropes of the ring, until he and his staff were on. Ichigo craned his neck, eyes jumping from person to person. Grimmjow was good, but was he good enough to come out clean?

"What's your problem?" Grimmjow asked bluntly, staring at his coach. It took a moment, but Ichigo, flustered, responded. "Nothing! Just take care of this guy." He instructed, returning Grimmjow's stern gaze. The other man merely scoffed, keeping to his corner.

Cheers began to intensify, signaling to the pair that Grimmjow's opponent had arrived. His robe was a fiery red, with gold lining to match the red and gold of his shorts and gloves. A hood obscured his face, but what Grimmjow could make out from where he was, coupled with the bright spotlight that had been on him, he wore an intensely focused visage. A smirk played across Grimmjow's lips, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his prey.  
"You're getting cocky, Grimmjow," Ichigo began, frowning at Grimmjow's expression. As though chiding him for becoming excited enough to envision a simple victory. Grimmjow was none the wiser of Ichigo's words. Or he'd simply chosen to ignore them. Whichever the case, Ichigo no longer held the little control he did over Grimmjow's actions: a situation he'd hoped to avoid.

His opponent stepped into the ring, followed closely by his team. Near instantly, Ichigo could tell something was...off. Sato Iori, no doubt the man's name, was emblazoned across his back, seen only as he turned a moment to mumble something inaudible to his coach, who nodded, as if something absolute had been decided between the two. Ichigo took an almost routine, deep breath and exhale—the same as the start of every match. Being back here again, fight after fight, yet met with the chance that anything could happen. Perhaps Grimmjow would be given a run for his money—and an upset Grimmjow wasn't the first thing the redhead wanted to deal with after a bout.

✦✦✦

What happened next seemed to go in sequence. Short bursts, as though being looked at through the lens of a camera set on shutter. Ichigo's heart drummed fiercely against his chest. He sweat, beads falling to his jawline as he subconsciously paced outside the ring, getting all possible angles. He kept his eyes on the fighters, every single movement, knowing not to look away for fear of missing something infinitely important should he chance it. 

Iori's glove connected to Grimmjow's jaw, sending the blue-haired man a half-step back. The recoil barely lasted a second before Grimmjow's icy stare was back onto his opponent. Iori was stone-faced, and though Grimmjow had landed a few blows of his own upon him, he refused to let his expression, one of pure focus, of pure concentration, falter. It was for this reason that Grimmjow hated the man even more. He hadn't the face of a boxer, more like that of a chess player—a man that otherwise wouldn't have involved himself with the sport.

So why was he allowed the upper hand, even for a moment?

An infuriated Grimmjow charged forward, the moment he weaved through Iori's barrage of jabs. The only thing the cocky man would admit was that Iori was fast. Any more observations would feel like compliments. Regardless, he swung as fast and as hard as he could, craving to land a blow to Iori's face: he wanted nothing more than to violently disrupt, and utterly destroy the concentrated, stoic visage that faced him.

Iori stumbled, and the mistake was that Grimmjow had seen. With a widening, almost bloodthirsty grin, Grimmjow brawled him into a corner, punches flying one after another. Iori gritted his teeth, and, remembering his training, clenched his stomach to absorb lower blows the best he could.  
Ichigo let free a cautious sigh of relief, but never lowered his guard. Anything could happen, and likely anything would, seeing as it was Grimmjow. But for now, he could breathe easy, knowing Grimmjow maintained the upper hand.

Iori pushed back soon after, and with great effort: it wasn't easy to move someone that was molded into pure, defiant muscle. The referee split them up, pushing Grimmjow back further as Iori retreated to a neutral corner. Barely giving the ref any time to check him, Grimmjow barreled past him, and continued. Iori was ready, however, and withstood the last ten seconds of the match, when the bell rang, and they were called back to their respective corners.  
Grimmjow reluctantly sat down, and though he was not tired, his chest heaved, up and down, with adrenaline. Nothing else existed but him and Iori, thoroughly muting Ichigo’s words.

"What you're doing wrong is you're letting him get to you," Ichigo scolded, also looking at Iori, whose coach reflected only silent wariness. "Oh, shut up," Grimmjow snapped, mouth opening as a subordinate in his corner used a nozzle-topped bottle to squeeze water into the boxer's mouth. He turned to the side, rinsed, and spat—almost onto the floor of the ring, had another subordinate not been there with a bucket. "I know what I'm doing."  
Ichigo thought to interject, to suggest some sort of solution to Grimmjow's being rash, but before he could get a word in edgewise, the bell rang. Ichigo let him go once more, back into the waiting fists of his opponent. 

✦✦✦

Grimmjow lived a comfortable distance from the heart of the city. He liked to stay close, but only enough that he could quickly get there should he need to, or so he could enjoy the view. Modern contemporary in style, and with a simple black, white, and silver color scheme, he found he didn’t have time to manage every little detail of the house and left most of the design to Ichigo. Grimmjow didn’t care, so long as he had it all to himself. His garage housed a black Dodge Charger, and though he only needed the one car, he’d admit to have given more a thought, if only for a couple seconds. 

Grimmjow’s finances were largely managed by Ichigo, and occasionally he’d see to them himself, but the boxer found he didn’t want anything until he saw it, rather than burn through his money the second he got it. An impulse buy here or there, but nothing that was cause for alarm. The only thing he had primarily in mind was fighting, and a close second, wealth. Either way, he was and had been living within his means—if only partially because of Ichigo’s watchful eye—and there wouldn’t be a problem until Ichigo told him there was a problem. 

However, the style of the home didn’t quite reflect his habits. Dishes, some with dried food clinging to them, lay piled upon each other in the kitchen sink. The fridge was stocked, but all he ever did was drink, and if he was hungry, he’d have food brought to him. Multiple baskets filled with dirty clothes in his bedroom, consoles, controllers, and cases strewn about on the living room floor in front of his TV. This wasn’t to say that he always kept it in this state purposefully, as when it got too dirty, he tasked himself with cleaning it, but the man was lazy. 

Having just returned home and making a beeline for the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of himself in a mildly dirtied, full-length mirror hanging on a nearby wall, his face contorting with annoyance at the fresh cut on the right side of his upper lip. He had won the bout, but by the skin of his teeth. Sure, Ichigo took a win as a win, but what bothered, grated at Grimmjow the most was how close it had been. If it wasn't for Iori's slip-up, he would've gone home with a loss, and thus, less money.

Stepping toward the fridge, he opened it to routinely grab another beer before heading to the living room, letting his weight collapse on a comfortable sofa. The moment he did, however, a knock sounded. He exhaled irritably and, pretending not to hear it, turned on the TV. 

"Grimmjow! Hey, open up!" Ichigo called, returning his hand to his pocket. He'd spent a lot of time with Grimmjow, years, in fact, and learned that patience was the best way of getting to someone like him. Granted, the two butted heads near daily, but they were a match, more or less. Any other person, in Ichigo's opinion, would have given up early, dismissing Grimmjow as a lost cause, an arrogant moron that was a waste of time, in every sense of the word. To put things simply, Ichigo preferred to work with someone who was at least some degree of difficult.

_But for now,_ Ichigo thought, eyebrow twitching with impatience. _I don't really have the time for it._ He gripped the doorknob and turned it, not at all surprised that Grimmjow hadn't locked the door. In fact, he hadn't even closed it all the way!

"Go home," Grimmjow said after a short sigh, though with as much routine as possible, more so to the TV than to Ichigo. 

"What, I can't stop in for five minutes?"

"No; it's my house, Kurosaki." He paused to muffle a low burp into the bend of his arm. Ichigo made a face, but decided he had put up with Grimmjow long enough to get a beer himself. Not like he'd complain. Ichigo meandered toward a recliner, letting a few seconds' silence settle before he spoke.

"I think I'm going to increase your training load. We need you ready for anything, Grimmjow. God knows you don't listen to a word I say otherwise," Ichigo started, catching a classic look of defiance from the other man. Thankfully, however, it wasn't followed by a sarcastic remark. "I've called in a friend, she should be able to help you out with whatever you need. Give me your phone." Ichigo held his palm out, waiting. "What for?" He inquired, bottle held to his lips.

"I can't always be on call! If I didn't think she could handle you, I wouldn't have asked. Now, come on." He moved his fingers, suggesting Grimmjow hurry up. He groaned, and dug into his pocket, tossing the phone to his coach. Ichigo had just barely caught it, but made sure he did. 

"Tomorrow morning at 6:00, come down. **I know it's early,** " Ichigo held a hand up, right as Grimmjow opened his mouth to complain. "but those hours you spend sleeping off a drunken stupor, you could use for training. And I mean _be there_ at 6:00, don’t leave at 6:00.” 

"Go home," Grimmjow growled, catching his phone as Ichigo tossed it back to him and stood, making his way to the door. "Yeah, yeah. Get all that rebellion out of you." Ichigo teased, chuckling to himself as he closed the front door on his way out, Grimmjow's curses unheard.

Settling back down into the couch, Grimmjow exhaled. Naturally, Ichigo got on his nerves on occasion. But as long as they continued to fight like they did, Grimmjow was happy—even if he had noticed his coach’s needless worry and lack of confidence in his skills.

He shuddered, disgusted that he allowed himself to think such things. He was, for lack of a better word, happy about it. And now, with an empty bottle of beer, he turned off the TV and got ready for bed. But not before checking this new entry.

_Bao._


	2. Best Behavior

"...And that's another thing," Ichigo continued, clearly having been on a rant about Grimmjow's attitude, in an attempt to warn his friend. "It's like he hates the thought of being someone anyone has anything good to say about. Like he likes the hate."

Bao merely chuckled as they entered the gym. She assumed Grimmjow had already arrived, because not only were the two of them a bit later than they'd hoped, but she could hear faint music coming from one of the farther rooms. "Sounds good. Definitely can't wait to meet him, then." She replied. Ichigo could rely on the fact that she was resilient, able to fend for herself, flexible. But it was that he didn't want Grimmjow's behavior to run her off—he didn't want the embarrassment of having to explain this or justify that, and despite knowing him better than anyone, he had no idea how he'd act upon introducing the two.

_God, he's like a fucking child_ , Ichigo thought, with an inward grimace. "Guess this is him." Bao said quietly, peeking into the doorway of a padded room, large window at its front, to see a single, blue-haired man with a towel in hand. He breathed heavily, wiping the sweat from his face, before tossing the towel on the nearest railing.

✦✦✦

Grimmjow, so far, had done well. Three hours straight, and he'd exceeded all of Ichigo's expectations. He'd poured a lot of his time and effort into helping Grimmjow achieve whatever it was he wanted, and so far, it had been worth it. He wasn't pulled too harshly from his own life and interests, and found it kept him grounded to have someone like Grimmjow to "manage" in a literal and figurative sense. They had certainly met under unusual circumstances, but their bond had grown. It had become symbiotic. Maybe it simply felt good for Ichigo to watch as someone he knew changed for the better, at least, for themselves.

And now, he had been jumping rope for fifteen minutes, his lungs and throat burning with every breath he refused to take through his nose. He watched Ichigo, and this girl—"Bao", apparently—discuss his progress behind a clipboard she held. He stared at her with that same arrogant, kingly look. Why did Ichigo think he needed a babysitter? He gave her a day or two, at most. After that, she'd surely be crying, begging Ichigo to go home, telling him how much of a "handful" Grimmjow was being, and how mean he was.

She was somewhat fit, from what he could see. She wore a white t-shirt that hugged her chest well, and a simple, though thin, black zip-up. His eyes trailed further down, following her slim form to see yoga leggings, "PINK" written out across the waist behind her, and white running shoes. Every now and then, the two would look back to him for reference, as he continued jumping, and his and Bao's eyes would meet.

There was _slight_ discomfort—or perhaps confusion—on her face, but he'd take it. As long as he made her uncomfortable with his mere presence, he was happy. He'd play off that until she confronted him. If she confronted him.

He'd caught a glimpse of her face. Not a bump or blemish on her light-brown skin to speak of. Full lips. Grey eyes. A single mole under her left eye. Extremely curly, honey-blonde hair that reached to just about her mid-back.

"Alright, give it a rest, Grimmjow," Ichigo raised a hand, and the boxer stopped. Bao had free reign for the session to familiarize herself with the gym, and his eyes followed her while she examined the space. Even as Ichigo approached him, outfitted with a pair of boxing pads, he was readily watching her, waiting to tell her she'd seen enough. "We're gonna change things up a bit for practice—you don't have another bout for a little while, but I don't want you getting comfortable and shit, alright?"

"Hn." Grimmjow returned, hardly listening.

✦✦✦

Ichigo patted her upper arm again. "Thanks for coming out again, Bao," He said, grateful. She returned his smile with one of her own, something Grimmjow hadn't seen as he began gathering his things. She hadn't said much to him, other than giving him basic tips to maintaining the appropriate posture and other little things he tended to overlook as unimportant. "No problem," She started. "I didn't think it'd be this much fun, getting out of the house and all. But I'm glad I took you up on this."

So far, she hadn't brought anything to the table that he needed. She was mildly stern, telling him to relax his shoulders, not to reach when punching—as the strength is most used with a slight shortness of the arm—and to practice body rotation. He didn't need telling, but Ichigo's expressions were enough to quiet Grimmjow's responses to her, if only barely.

"I'm having a few friends over tonight, if you want to come. I mean, it wasn't really my idea, more like Keigo's. But if you're up to it, and all." Ichigo had rolled his eyes at the thought of Keigo inviting himself to his house, but since Ichigo lived alone, that must have sent him a message.

Bao grinned, broadly. "Yeah. I've got some spare shit I need to get done, but depending on the time, I could stop by."

Grimmjow quickened his pace, packing up his things and getting dressed. It wasn't anywhere near dark yet, but he was ready to go home. Ready to get away from these two. He slung his gym bag over his shoulder, and knelt to lace up his shoes. Unfortunately, that meant staying and listening to them.

"How're Isshin and them?" She asked, pulling her brightly-colored locks into a large ponytail. Ichigo may have said something, but Grimmjow did his best to tune it out. He glared at his shoes, lacing them tightly. _Even her goddamned voice_. She laughed. Whatever he said was probably some corny shit, joking about his father, and his younger sisters. Grimmjow had never met any of them, merely heard complaints from a tired Ichigo the days after, about how they'd kept him up. He had no intention of meeting them.

He rose, and hurriedly made his way to the door. Ichigo cut himself off, side-stepping to block the blue-haired man. "Woah, hold on, we're not done here, Grimmjow."

"Move." Grimmjow commanded. Ichigo knew he wouldn't be able to keep him much longer if he was set on leaving, so he said what he wanted to immediately. "Look, we're not going to do this for a day and then fall off. I expect you here tomorrow. Same time, and ready to work. Bao's coming too."

Grimmjow smirked. "You must be confused, Kurosaki. You keep mentioning her, as if I give a damn where she is." He pushed his way through, pulling the hood of his sleeveless hoodie up as he made for the front exit. Ichigo exhaled, watching him, as though a fed-up parent. "He's not usually this...difficult. Sure, he doesn't listen, but he's being a pain in my ass right now," He explained, hoping that the boxer wouldn't deter her. Bao merely shrugged, also watching as Grimmjow defiantly left. "Well, he's an entirely different type, Ichigo. That, or he doesn't like me."

"No, if he didn't like you, he'd tell you. We had someone in here a while ago, to help me out with him, Grimmjow broke his nose. It took the whole team to get him off the guy. I'm trying to remember what he said..." Ichigo paused to think.

Bao tried her best to be understanding. Although Ichigo was, to her knowledge, only Grimmjow's coach and trainer, the two had to be friends on some level. Perhaps Ichigo was Grimmjow's only friend, and having someone else introduced so soon was strange to him.

"I don't remember. Maybe you can ask him, once he calms down. Just, again, I'm sorry he's acting like a damn teenager." Ichigo apologized finally, raking a hand through bright, orange hair. "It's okay! Don't worry, he'll come around...eventually." Bao assured him. The two exchanged smiles, and prepared to lock up.


	3. Unusual

Grimmjow's phone buzzed, loudly sounding against the glass table in the living room, in front of the couch, where he had again passed out. He groaned, sitting up. The TV was still on, blaring, the show he was watching long off. He wiped the drool from his mouth, and held the phone to his eyes. It told him Bao was calling, causing him to narrow his eyes at it. What the hell did she want? There was no picture for her, merely a generic, fuzzy background. He slid his thumb across the screen, holding the phone to his ear and leaning back, letting his eyes close. He'd fallen asleep with all the lights on, making waking up even worse.

"What?" He asked, flatly. "Grimmjow? Hey, it's Bao. But, I guess you already knew that. Anyway, could you let me in? I've been knocking and ringing the door bell, but you wouldn't wake up, or anything—sorry!" She said, preemptively, with a sheepish laugh. Grimmjow set his jaw and looked to the door.

He hung up, tossing his phone to a vacant cushion, and waited a moment, as though shaking off the last bit of sleep before standing, and heading to the door.

Bao's hands remained clasped together even as he opened the door just a bit to peer at her from inside. "You forgot your gloves, first of all," She started, Grimmjow's eyes momentarily leaving hers to see his gloves, tied, and hanging off her shoulder. "And second, Ichigo thinks it'd be a good idea to come over. He thinks you'll have fun." She added, optimistic. Ichigo had told her plenty about him, and she figured since there was an option to drink, he'd come. He didn't say anything. Bao fidgeted and continued. "Here, I'll just put these down in there, and hopefully you'll come to Ichigo's soon." She made her way to enter, but Grimmjow stayed firmly rooted in front of her, and refused to move. She backed up, wordless. He too, was silent as he held his palm toward her. She pulled her lips in, giving him his gloves, which he tossed out of her sight, further into the house.

He continued to look at her, examining her. Bao couldn't get him to so much as speak to her, so she returned his silence, until he stepped back, appearing to let her in, but instead closing the door.

✦✦✦

"He's really not too fond of me, Ichigo," Bao explained, clearly put off. It was uncomfortable, she'd admit, but if there was any way to alleviate any of this, it would be nice to know. Her only job, as Ichigo had explained beforehand, was to assist Ichigo in his duties—he needed someone who had a bit more free time, a bit more flexible of a schedule. Managing Grimmjow was a long and often thankless job that required occasional damage control, and this just happened to be one such situation. "He didn't say a word. Not one." She had come back to Ichigo's home, his friends gathered in the living room, and he'd excused himself to speak privately with her.

"Oh, it's fine; don't worry about it," Ichigo advised, giving her a knowing smile. "I guarantee he doesn't hate you. It's just an intimidation thing. Think of it as him testing you. Making sure you don't quit on him as easy as others have. I've been keeping him in check, since I've got a little more pull, but I can't stop him from acting how he acts when you two are alone."

"I know," She replied, stress furrowing her brows. "You're absolutely sure? I want you to be honest, Ichigo, tell me if I'm doing something that subconsciously makes him hate me."

"Nothing at all. He won't hurt you, but he'll tell me to get rid of you if he does hate you. He's...tolerating you, right now. You said he didn't say anything when you were there?"

Bao nodded. Ichigo kept his smile. "He knows he couldn't say anything nice, so he didn't say anything at all. He didn't feel the need to be nice, or mean to you, so he didn't say anything. Especially since he knows I'd find out. Okay?" He explained. Not all of this was entirely true, but it wasn't a lie, either. He knew Grimmjow very well, and since they'd known each other for so long, he'd seen Grimmjow change, however subtly, from the pure, ruthless animal he used to be. The important thing was that he wasn't lying to Bao, but needed to take what happened, and turn it into a positive thing. Bao nodded, feeling better. She couldn't force Grimmjow to like her and treat her better, but there had to be a way around it, couldn't there?

Ichigo insisted Grimmjow would come around, as he told her to head back to the living room. The moment she disappeared around the corner, his smile faded to a look of sternness, frustrated that Grimmjow was so set on scaring her. He wasn't going to reprimand him, he needed to get to the bottom of why he felt the need to do it.

✦✦✦

Grimmjow thought nothing of Bao's visit. It didn't hold any weight to it and there wasn't anything at risk—it was easily put out of his mind the moment he shut the door on her. Besides, there was no way it was _her_ idea to bring those gloves back.

He'd gotten showered and dressed, just in case he wanted to entertain the idea of going to Ichigo's, and now sat on his couch, one foot propped up on the table before him, selecting a save file for _Resident Evil_. Maybe he'd go. Maybe he wouldn't—hanging out with Kurosaki was a given and he wasn't likely to miss anything. He fiddled with his controller a bit as the loading screen started, and glanced at the skin of his wrists—his burn scars.

Years before he'd even met Ichigo, he'd worked for a man named Aizen Sosuke. Under duress, of course, as this was a much younger Grimmjow. He was promised money, shelter, training in how to dispose of his enemies; all valid things if one can cope with being brought up in the world of organized crime. He didn't like to think about it much, and sure, it was easy for him to ignore, but the reminders of what he had come from showed on the skin of his wrists, and the lengthy scar running up his abdomen.

No sooner than when he had completed the thought did he hear his phone buzz once more. He groaned softly, never having gotten to start his game, and looked down at it. _Kurosaki_. He picked up the phone and hesitated for only a moment before hitting 'answer'.

"What?" He asked, as though knowing he was going to get chewed out. Great—who _else_ would call only an hour after Bao coming to bother him?

"Don't 'what' me," Ichigo's voice, somewhat hushed, spoke. Grimmjow could hear the others far off. "She thinks you don't like her." He explained further. Grimmjow quickly shut his console off with a few movements, grabbed the car keys on the end table, and began shutting off the lights in his home. "Is she wrong?" He joked. "You called for something else, Kurosaki. You could've just left the gloves there, not like anyone's stupid enough to take shit from me."

"I told her to bring them to you because you need to get used to her, damn it." Ichigo shot back, leaning against the wall of one of his bedrooms. "She's not going anywhere. Just understand that."

Grimmjow stepped out, locking his door. "I didn't even say anything to her, and you're complaining." He laughed. Ichigo made it too easy to work his nerves. "I didn't do anything, either. I could've done a lot worse."

"Try me, Grimmjow. Avoid her all you want, that doesn't mean she's going to go away. Now are you coming over here, or not?"

Grimmjow mumbled, "Yeah, whatever, fine." as he now got in his car. He hadn't been asleep for long, but now that he was up, and wide-awake, he noticed only now that it was at least 9:30, 10:00. "There, that's all I'm asking. Now hurry your ass up." A late night didn't bother Ichigo, but there was a certain way to talk to Grimmjow that only Ichigo truly understood. The two had a specific kind of relationship, more than just coach/trainer and athlete, and every now and then, Grimmjow needed a little reminding of that.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, and hung up, slipping his phone into his pocket.

✦✦✦

Ichigo—or rather, Keigo—had invited his friends for the night. Keigo insisted they make it a sleepover should they have a lot of fun, but Ichigo strictly forbade it, seeing as he felt a little bad for not having food ready, and having to get delivery. Uryuu, Sado, Orihime, Rukia, Mizuiro, Keigo, Tatsuki, and Renji had all come over to relax for the night. Bao had only just met all of them, but they seemed nice, of course. It didn't take long, however, for the conversation to turn to Grimmjow. Four of them, plus Bao, sat on the sectional sofa, and another four, plus Ichigo, made their place on the carpet.

"But things are, otherwise, going okay at the gym?" Rukia asked, leaning forward. "Yes. He's making lots of progress, and I'm certain he'll get even better." Ichigo replied. There needed to be some middle ground between his group of friends and Grimmjow, and he didn't mind bridging the gap.

"Be honest," Uryuu began, looking sternly at Bao over thin glasses. "He hasn't been too rough with you yet, has he? We know Grimmjow. His type is garbage. All he does is let all that muscle go to his head; he'll become nothing more than a danger to you both."

Ichigo shot him a look. Grimmjow may be rough around the edges, but he was still a person. An aggressive, hotheaded person, but a person nonetheless. Besides, even if Uryuu had his point, it was that Grimmjow was fairly different than anyone Ichigo had ever known; his friends couldn't possibly relate to him, or give him any sort of breathing room for mistakes, or a cold demeanor. "Duly noted," Ichigo cut Bao off before she could answer. "It's not like you'd care past being right _if_ he hurt her." Renji chuckled softly, only to be met with Rukia's elbow gently prodding his ribs. "Anyway, give him a break. Let's talk about something else." He said, quickly. 

"Did you get a new stereo?" Orihime asked. She too wanted to change the subject. She was aware of Grimmjow's issues, at least on the surface, and how he wasn't the nicest man around, but their night was about being together and enjoying each other's time. It wasn't like Grimmjow was headed over anyway! Ichigo nodded, affirmatively. "Yeah. Brand new. Go ahead and play something, Inoue." Orihime felt a slight warmth come to her cheeks. She loved being around Ichigo, but it was his smile that she loved more. She always would, and would do anything to see it, and see him happy. She got up, and headed to the speakers. Expectedly, she fiddled with it for a moment before being flustered by the volume and quickly turned it down—it had happened so quickly, so immediately, it made her jump!

The group laughed, loud enough to muffle the sound of knocking on a door. Ichigo looked to Bao, who bit her lip, as if to ask if he was sure. He motioned for her to go, as though it was safe to. She rose and hurriedly walked to the door, gazing out the porthole. Grimmjow stood there, but with his attention on something else.

Bao opened the door and Grimmjow immediately walked past her. "Ichigo," Rarely did Grimmjow address the redhead by his first name, but Ichigo paid it no mind. He was more surprised with how quickly the other man headed for the fridge. He dismissively waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah. Have at it," to which Grimmjow smirked, " _There_ you go."

Bao hesitantly closed the door, and returned to the group. Ichigo shrugged at her, expecting him to raid his fridge at some point, but was still genuinely glad he came. Keigo craned his neck, to watch Grimmjow venture into the kitchen. The moment he was gone, he leaned in, and spoke in a hushed tone to Ichigo. "Come on, really, Ichigo. Why did you have to invite him? 'Far as I'm concerned he's not going to talk to any of us. Why'd he come now?"

"Because he felt like it." Ichigo retorted, blunt. Keigo was right; Grimmjow didn't really plan on speaking to his friends specifically, more like getting drunk in the background, and hoping no one spoke to him. But if he came regardless, the man must have wanted to enjoy himself at least a _little_.

Bao had grown thirsty, and now chanced waiting patiently outside the kitchen for Grimmjow to finish digging around. She gave him his space, knowing full well that he apparently couldn't stand to be around her, so why get too near?

He pulled two beers from the fridge, the necks of the bottles dangling from between his fingers, and stood up straight to see her waiting. He wanted her to come to him, to see the discomfort, to see how strange he made her feel. She stayed rooted to her spot, waiting for him to leave. He wouldn't. Not yet. Not until she at least looked at him, rather than absentmindedly letting her eyes wander around the kitchen.

Bao finally and uncomfortably looked to him, having readied herself for his glare. She couldn't hold it for much longer, though, as she tore her eyes away to meet the floor beneath them. "Thanks anyway for coming." She heard herself say, her heart skipping a beat. It never worked to meet your enemies with kindness, such a thing she'd always thought as ridiculous, a waste of time. But she didn't want the two of them to hate each other. They didn't even have to be friends. She merely wanted to be treated well enough.

Grimmjow raised a blue eyebrow. _What?_ He shook it off, closing the fridge and slowly stepping past her, eyes never ceasing to size her up, until he was seated in a vacant recliner in the living room. It still bothered him endlessly that she was around, and he'd have to put up with acting differently just to spare her feelings, but if Ichigo really meant what he said, then perhaps he did have to get used to it.

Either way, and with disgust, he drowned his thoughts in the very next drink he took.


	4. Accidentally

Grimmjow was bordering on a headache. He wasn't quite drunk yet, but considered it, seeing as Ichigo's friends were some of the most annoying people he'd ever had the displeasure of being around. The only thing he could focus on was the food Ichigo had ordered, and getting a few more drinks. Some girl, an idiot with big tits, "Inoue" or something, had almost dropped her food on him, and it took a lot of Ichigo calming him down to end his cursing at her. It wasn't his fault she was a moron!

Most of the time, though, they would be reminiscing about things he'd have never involved himself with. Most of those things were during the time he'd worked for Aizen. Such a job yielded little freedom, and though he used to struggle with the concept of whether that was truly meant to be his life, he always recognized when he was in danger because of his boss's carelessness. Grimmjow had been molded into nothing more than muscle, nothing more than an expendable tool for Aizen to use to block his valuables from getting into the hands of others. Sure, from time to time, Aizen would sense Grimmjow's rare uneasiness and assure him of his value, but varied, dangerous incidents told the blue-haired man otherwise. Surely, Aizen would have let him die—of that, he was certain.

Now, Ichigo and these people were watching a movie. They'd turned out all the lights, and hooked up the surround sound, so as to give themselves the most scares. Bao and Inoue were nestled closest to Ichigo. While all of their eyes were glued to the screen in anxious, unblinking stares, Grimmjow pondered quietly. Why was she so close to him? They'd known each other for long enough, but she was practically on his lap. Couldn't she sit somewhere else? At his feet? On the cushion closest to him? _Somewhere away from Kurosaki_. He thought, eyes still held to her as he downed the last of what would be his last beer.

Something happened on-screen. Grimmjow didn't pay much attention—as a reminder both to himself and subconsciously to Ichigo, he was doing exactly what he'd be doing at his own home, and showed up to humor his coach. He kept his attention partial, and eyed Bao every now and then, peripherally. He watched her, and her alone as the jump-scare happened, to see what she looked like when frightened.

All of her movements were expected. She covered her eyes, hid behind Ichigo. Her legs were tucked up in front of her, taking up the rest of the cushion. The first thing she tended to do was have her hands close to her face, just in case it was too much.

Inoue simply clung to Ichigo, waiting for the worst to be over.

Once the movie returned to a more positive and daytime-oriented scene, Bao rose to walk to the kitchen, but Grimmjow stopped her, whistling once to get her attention. She turned and saw him beckon to her, with two fingers. Side-stepping those on the floor, she stopped a decent distance away from him, and quietly asked, "Yes, Grimmjow?" as simply, and as politely as she could. If he wanted to have any reason to dislike her, she wasn't going to give him one. If he wanted to complain to Ichigo about her, she wouldn't give him anything to say about her, besides her civil behavior toward him.

He reached over and held the two, empty bottles before her. He watched as she looked to what was in his hands, then at him, hesitantly taking the bottles before hurrying off to the kitchen. Grimmjow inhaled for a split second and leaned back in the recliner. She smelled of perfume, of some vanilla scent. Soaps. Girly shit.

And yet another thing he noticed. She'd said his name. He was so used to people saying it with disgust, distaste, frustration, hatred. Especially yelling it. He was used to his name bearing negativity. But she'd said it...gently. Almost kindly. He replayed her saying his name in his mind, both syllables shaping those soft, full lips. _He felt mild disgust, yet wanted it to happen again._

She returned, and he kept his eyes off her. He wanted her out. He wanted her gone. He didn't want the change that came with her being Ichigo's right hand, and maybe that meant he'd have to do it himself. Once she sat down next to Ichigo, Grimmjow stood immediately, and headed to the bathroom. Beer didn't go through him fast at all, but he needed an excuse to get out of the room. He hadn't felt his phone slip out of his pocket and onto the recliner.

As soon as Grimmjow left, Ichigo leaned back to make sure he was headed to the bathroom. Why else would he get up and go?

"Here." A male voice called, Renji tossing Grimmjow's phone into Ichigo's lap. "What am I supposed to do with it? Just leave it over there."

"Come on, take a picture or something!" Renji insisted, hoping to take some of the edge off Grimmjow's being there. "He hasn't spoken to anyone and he's ordered Bao around," Rukia started, leaning back on her hands from her place on the floor. "A picture isn't going to hurt. It might even help his mood. It's not our fault he doesn't know how to talk to us. Or at all." She continued.

Ichigo made a face. "Oh, he knows how to talk. I'm glad he's being quiet, actually. You guys wanna talk to him so bad, be my guests. But don't blame me if he pisses you off." Ichigo explained, with a shrug. He heard the familiar sound of a camera shutter, and found Bao to have taken a picture. One of herself, and one of her, and a distracted Ichigo.

"There," she spoke. "now he'll have one of both of us."

"To delete." Ichigo joked, as the group turned their attention back to the TV.

✦✦✦

It got late, and a few of the others had work, or University to attend. They made their way out together, carpooling to get where they needed to go. Ichigo bid them farewell for the night, and returned to the now spacious couch, stretching with a loud yawn. Bao kept her place next to him, and Grimmjow stayed motionless on the recliner. The TV droned on for background noise, mostly so Ichigo wouldn't have to deal with the discomfort of the three merely sitting together in silence.

"How'd you like them, then, Grimmjow?"

"They're all annoying." Grimmjow muttered against his palm, elbow propped on the arm of the chair. He was moderately tired, one could see he'd been keeping his eyes closed for the rest of the night, in an attempt to relax. He was glad they were gone, and hoped that the headache he'd sustained would go away the following morning.

His eyes slowly opened, however, when Bao quietly mentioned she was ready to leave. Ichigo, understanding, stood as well. "How'd moving go?" He asked, leading her to the door. "Fine, fine, everything should be in place and I'll finish what's left of unboxing tomorrow. You should see it some time when you're free; to be honest, I've been waiting to show someone around," she admitted. Bao had recently moved into a nicer apartment than her last, and enjoyed being downtown and nearer to Ichigo and entertainment rather than in quiet, withdrawn neighborhoods.

"Sounds good," Ichigo responded, with a soft smile. Bao turned as Ichigo then held the door open for her. "Goodnight, Grimmjow. Get home safe, and I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Grimmjow didn't respond. He didn't blink, he merely stared that same, analyzing, unbroken stare upon seeing her embrace a slightly nervous Ichigo, and then take her leave. Ichigo closed the door. "So are you staying or what?"

"..."

"Grimmjow."

"What?"

"Are you staying the night or what?" He repeated, speaking as he cleaned up after his guests. Grimmjow paused again, and got up to walk to a nearby window, just in time to see Bao enter her car, a white Honda Civic. "Where does she live?" Grimmjow asked, answering Ichigo's question with a question, much to the latter's annoyance. 

"How's it your business?"

"What's the address, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow asked once more, turning to face his coach. Ichigo sighed, defeated. "Y'know, Grimmjow, what's the matter with you? You were eyeing her all night, and you wouldn't say a word to her. If you have some shit to say to her, say it to me." Ichigo demanded. The latter smiled a conniving smile, chuckling to himself as he stepped closer. "I don't have shit to say to her I could say to you, and you know that."

"She's seeing someone." Ichigo lied.

"Where is he then?" Grimmjow questioned. Ichigo remained silent. "Exactly." Grimmjow answered, heading for the door.

"She's there as a favor to me, Grimmjow. It's business between you and her. Leave it, and her, alone, or you'll be in some serious shit."

"Just tell me where. You want me to get used to her, I'll do that. I'm just going to talk to her."

Ichigo knew he would regret it in the morning. It was an uncomfortable thing, putting Bao's trust aside just to avoid Grimmjow's attitude, but he couldn't do it, and it wasn't like Grimmjow would be able to find her on his own, right? He willed down the urge to give in, and shook his head. "Go home. If you want to know so badly, just text her or call her or something. I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early."

"Ch'." Grimmjow scoffed. The blue-haired man roughly patted Ichigo's shoulder upon walking past him—all of this was a mere joke to him; at least, that's what he wanted to communicate. He didn't have to let Ichigo know exactly what he was thinking, but it was fun causing his trainer a little discomfort every now and again.

Ichigo sighed as Grimmjow slammed the door behind him, continued to clean up, and set an alarm for the morning.

✦✦✦

Bao stretched, having showered and brushed her teeth. It was 1:45 AM, but she felt as tired as 4:00. Her apartment was simple, smaller than Ichigo's, but she'd made it as comfortable and personalized as she could. She had straightened her hair and forewent the satin cap she wore to bed, if only for the night. She wore only a black sleepshirt and socks, gold lettering diagonal across the front. She eased into her bed, the only light in the apartment coming from the lamp on her end table.

Her phone, kept on the charger on her nightstand, buzzed with a quiet, harp-like ringtone. An unknown number showed, but it was one in her area. She answered, tentatively, holding the phone with one hand and fiddling with the hem of her blanket with the other.

"Hello?"

"Woman," A low, smooth voice spoke into the receiver. "Where do you live?"

"Who is this?" She asked, unsure. It couldn't have been. _Grimmjow?_ She supposed she had called him hours ago to get him to open the door of his home, it must have slipped her mind to save the number after receiving it from Ichigo.

"You know who it is. Kurosaki wouldn't tell me, so you do it. I'm a long way from home."

"Grimmjow," She started. He inhaled sharply. There she went again. Saying his name. How dare she make it sound so _good _. "You shouldn't be out this late, you need your rest or you won't be able to function tomorrow. I'm serious."__

____

____

"I'm only going to ask one more time, and you should be grateful I'm asking." Grimmjow spoke. He'd already asked the question enough times without an answer, and he was trying to be somewhat civil with her while irritated at that fact. So now, he had pulled over so as to avoid further getting lost. A shiver ran down Bao's spine. His tone had totally changed. She'd never been so worried someone about someone coming to see her.

"Where do you live?"

Bao told him, scared of what he might do, and included the floor, and room number. The moment she did, he hung up. She let the three definitive beeps signal the end of the call before slowly putting the phone back onto the charger. She watched the clock, waiting for him to come to her. He had to have been joking. Maybe he was headed home? Maybe he was only saying that to get her to tell him? Maybe it was all part of his intimidation tactics? She made up numerous possibilities, but believed none of them. So she laid there, waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

✦✦✦

Loud banging soon woke her from her drowsy state. Grimmjow had arrived, heedlessly pounding the side of his fist against her door. When Bao had realized what she had done, she hurriedly got up and briskly walked to the door, opening it slowly, to look up at his 6'1" frame. His hands were deep in his pockets, and he glowered at her shortly before making his way into her home. Their backs to each other and the door closing soon after, he spoke, his low voice breaking the silence. She didn't dare move.

"What are you to Kurosaki?" _Just in case there's something that bastard's not telling me._

"I'm a friend. That's all, Grimmjow." He must have been threatened by someone else being close to Ichigo. At least, this is what Bao began to assume. "I'm sorry if I'm doing something wrong. I don't mean to make you upset, Ichigo just needed my help, and I wasn't doing anything and wanted to make a little more money, and I thought I could help you and..."

As she rambled on, apologizing for one thing after another, Grimmjow really only listened when she said his name. He hated what it did to him. Nothing in him made him want to admit that it felt nice to hear someone new, someone different say his name, but it was the distinct combination of worry for herself and for him that her tone carried that drew him in. She was something else entirely. And it got under his skin.

He turned and stepped closely behind her. Perhaps it was the warmth he was giving off that told her he was this close, but she trailed off, her apology ending, and quickly turned around, backed against the apartment door. He reached out and placed his forearm against it and above her, leaning down and peering into her eyes, an even darker gray in so little light. Her lips, _her goddamned lips_ were parted just slightly with surprise.

So easy to scare.

"Grimmjow, go home. Please." She wasn't asking, now. She was begging. He'd gotten what he wanted, to see her uncomfortable. To see her fidgeting and nervous because of him, directly. But as he was there, he found that that couldn't have been what he wanted. He wasn't getting what he thought he would out of it. She was pleading with him, not for the sake of, but because she didn't want this to happen. She was scared. Shaking. Her eyes seemed to water now.

_Fuck._

He gave her one last look, and leaned back, letting his arm slide off the door. He stepped past her and opened it, leaving without a word.

Bao closed it afterward, but quickly and audibly locked it.

Grimmjow's hands turned to fists in his pockets as he left the building, hurriedly getting into his car—it was a moment before he even thought to start it, as something was different; something was off that he hadn't considered. What had he come to her for? Why was she crying? He didn't do anything. He didn't say anything. How did he make her cry?

It was an accident.


	5. Tell Me

Ichigo stepped into the back room of the gym, having shaken off the last bit of sleep that clung to him. He'd fallen asleep shortly after Grimmjow left, and slept heavy at that. But now, he was ready and willing to put up with whatever Grimmjow felt like doing, seeing as he probably didn't find Bao's home last night. Much to his surprise, Grimmjow was already working on the speed bag, eyes forward and focused, neck and chest slick with sweat.

He went to the closet to retrieve Grimmjow's jump rope, and other training items, as well as water from the cooler, and a few towels. "Finish up over there," Ichigo spoke, raising his voice as he was considerably far into the back closet. "do your stretches and get ready to get in the ring."

Grimmjow could barely hear him. Both over the speed bag, and his own thoughts. Bao hadn't arrived yet, and until she did, he was forced to wait. Forced to think. What had he done? He wasn't guilty, he didn't regret going to see her. Kurosaki could do fuck all to stop him. But why did she cry about it?

Ichigo sighed, bringing with him a new roll of athletic tape. "You've been running through these a lot, too...Try to save some, at least." He was talking to a strangely non-talkative Grimmjow, but as far as he was concerned, as long as Grimmjow wanted to train, he didn't mind in the least.

"Sorry I'm late! I stopped for some breakfast." Grimmjow heard a female voice call, clearly out of breath. He caught the scent of breakfast sandwiches and coffee, both in her hands, and soon Ichigo's. He slowed himself against the speed bag, if only to hear the two better should they speak, but noticed she looked as though last night hadn't happened.

"It's fine, don't worry." Ichigo excused her, holding up a hand, and flashing that same, gentle smile. She presented the bag to him, and he gladly took a few sandwiches. Grimmjow wasn't hungry, but he'd eat her food if he felt like it. What was she going to do? _Cry_. Grimmjow answered, mentally, before pulling back and meandering towards the training bag.

"I got you some too, Grimmjow," Bao said, bending a bit as she placed the bag down on a nearby counter, alongside the holder full of coffee cups. It wasn't the healthiest start, and was on short notice, but maybe distracting herself with doing them a kindness would remind her that it was a new day, a chance to start fresh.

"Okay, yeah, actually, stay over there," Ichigo instructed to Grimmjow, cheek full of sandwich, as he pointed to an already-training Grimmjow. He looked to Bao, her hands free. "You can go on and join him; y'know, steady the bag a bit and give him some resistance if you can." Bao nodded, jogging towards the opposite of the training bag, careful to avoid his gaze, but not to make it so obvious by purposefully obscuring her face.

Grimmjow didn't watch her. He merely waited—best to let her come to him and tell her what the damn problem was.

The pair worked through the mild tension in the air, Bao thinking only of doing her job, praying Grimmjow wouldn't bring anything up. It was yesterday; it happened, it was done. Nothing could've changed it—she had asked him to stop, to go home, to leave her alone, and he had obeyed, but it was the fact that he felt the _need_ to do such a thing, to invite himself over to her and demand information that frightened her, and rightly.

Grimmjow, on the other hand, couldn't make sense of it. He alternated between quick, powerful bursts against the training bag and occasionally changed his footing so as to begin circling the bag, watching with disgust as she kept her distance, making sure she stayed opposite him. Grimmjow pulled back, clearly irritated, and looked over his shoulder—Kurosaki had stopped pacing about and gathering his gear, and now sat in his office, busy at work. He turned back.

"What did I do?" He inquired. It was almost as though it wasn't a question asked out of curiosity, but a demand to know.

"What do you mean?" Bao replied, leaning to the side so she could look in those unforgiving, blue eyes.

"Stop playing dumb." Grimmjow growled, leaning down and lowering his voice. He wasn't having any of this 'innocent' shit today. "Why were you crying if I didn't do anything?" Her weakness made him sick. She didn't know him or what he was capable of or what he'd done, so she had no reason to fear him yet. But what was worse was the fact that he couldn't figure out why she felt this way on his own.

"Look, I didn't expect you to come over. It's been a while since...someone did," She explained. She didn't date often, and wasn't used to being in relationships as a whole, and though that was probably the last thing on Grimmjow's mind when it came to interacting with her, she couldn't deny the effects relationships have had on her. "I thought you were going to do _something_." She continued.

"Fuck you?" Grimmjow stated, blunt. Bao nodded. Grimmjow scoffed, and looked to the side. He hated stuck up, shitty women, but he wouldn't go so far as rape. He'd seen what it did to the women he'd known. Or rather, a woman. He remembered her name—Halibel. She was almost as vivid in his memories as Aizen was. He was young when he met her and could guess what it meant when Aizen and Halibel would disappear behind the doors of Aizen's bedroom, but the strange part about it all was the silence. The suffocating, unnatural silence. He never intended to inflict that 'silence' on Bao.

He wanted to tell her he wouldn't, that he wasn't like that sick fuck, Aizen. She didn't know, and she didn't need to, but if it hindered their being alone, then he'd have to find one way or another.

Bao pushed impatiently against the training bag between them. "Can we please just—let's get back to training. Please. I want you at your best, Grimmjow."

"Yeah, whatever." He responded, taking his stance just as Ichigo exited his office.

✦✦✦

"Your next bout is in a week and a half," Ichigo started, while Bao spoke to the manager of the boxer they were supposed to meet, taking information down for Ichigo. "We'll be going a ways out to their arena, but it shouldn't be more than a half hour away; straight shot. Got it?"

Grimmjow grunted, pulling off the athletic tape. Bao joined them, having ended the call. "Great progress today. They're really excited to meet you. Do you want a ride home?"

Grimmjow looked up, from his place on the bench. Bao had offered to take him home. Though his body felt like a single, sore muscle, and he felt like being driven home, he refused. Plus, he'd driven himself today; she must not have seen his car upon pulling in. "No. Just go on your own." He rose, gathering his things and pulling on a thin, sleeveless sweater.

Ichigo closed up, and the trio found themselves outside. Ichigo got in his car, and waved to them before driving off. Grimmjow hurriedly put some of his belongings in the backseat of his Charger, but Bao merely watched. She stared after him, even as she stood next to her own vehicle. What was so hard about showing her a little positivity? He didn't have to like her, or act like a child who had just gotten a new step-mother, but it was getting old, fast.

Still, she couldn't help but think she was skating on thin ice when it came to even being near him. He was bold enough to unabashedly come to her house, but he'd held himself back enough that he didn't try to have sex with her, or even kiss her. But something about him told her he'd be the last to ask for permission…last night couldn't have been all he was, especially if Ichigo bothered to be friends with him for so long.

Having made up her mind—she couldn't afford to be scared of him anymore, he'd only keep messing with her and thus, worrying Ichigo—she jogged to where he parked, knocking on the driver's side window just as he started it up. Grimmjow exhaled, rolling it down. "What now?"

Bao wasn't sure of this, but figured she could at least keep being nice, until she was burnt out. Maybe it was the need to help him, to want to be someone different to him that she wanted at least in partial that kept her from giving up altogether. "Can I come over for a while?" She asked, to which Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, expecting her to continue with whatever excuse she needed. "I mean, if that's okay!" was all that followed. It didn't make sense; was this her way of desensitizing herself to him? Was this her way of making what happened last night even between the two of them?

Either way, he would humor her. If only to see what she thought she'd do to make them even, should she willingly put herself in his presence. Alone. He put the car in reverse."...Follow me." He allowed, waiting until she nodded and rushed off into her own car before he backed up. What was the point? What did she want to accomplish?

✦✦✦

Bao was surprised how far he lived from her, but not so much that she couldn't understand that he'd want his solitude at times. However, if Ichigo wanted him to get used to her, she figured in some aspect, she'd be better off exposing herself to more of him. She couldn't work with a person she was afraid of.

They now entered his home, directly into the living room, both cars parked comfortably in the garage, skyline of the city against a darkening blue, seen through glass doors.

"Hungry?" He asked, not at all sounding as though he'd do anything about it if she was. She shook her head. "Thirsty?" Again, she shook her head. "Tired?" He asked once more. He didn't look like he cared, even if she said yes. She'd answered 'no' to all three.

He sat down first, leaving her to stand near the door as he got comfortable, letting his head lean back and closing his eyes. She wanted to sit near him, to bridge this gap, as he had to be open in some sense to letting her be around him. He opened an eye, and found her looking at him. Irritated that she was so anxious around him, he snapped the fingers of his left hand twice to get her attention, then pointed down at a vacant cushion next to him. She quickly did as told, letting the two maintain silence. She mildly wondered if he'd try to force himself upon her, but strangely, he hadn't moved. He did no such thing. She fidgeted, playing with her fingers and the hem of her shirt. She didn't want to get too comfortable and too informal with him, as the two weren't even friends. But she ultimately had no reason to be here and invited herself over—there was no plan past being around him and getting this far was a surprise in itself!

He lived not in opulence but clearly did enough with his money. Ichigo had told her about the stress that came with managing Grimmjow's finances and keeping a firm hold on his spending, but he seemed to handle it fine. Besides, if it was a big enough problem, Ichigo wouldn't bother with it; everything about Grimmjow seemed just right, an opposite side of the coin, to Ichigo. As if the boxer was an ongoing project Ichigo wanted to be tasked with, not to prove anything to anyone, but because he merely felt like it.

"I don't know how Kurosaki does this, and I don't really give a damn." He suddenly spoke after exhaling through his nose. Truthfully, this was all coincidence. He didn't expect her to want to see him on such a personal level after last night, but better to take advantage of it now. Especially if there was some way around explaining that while he didn't regret going to see her, it's that there was no reason to cry. Bao, confused, leaned forward. "Grimmjow, just tell me. I know we haven't known each other for very long, but if you want to tell me something, just say it. I promise I won't overreact or something." She added, reaching out to touch his knee.

"I. Am." He replied, aggravated. "Just, where do you want to go?"

"For what?"

"Out. With me." He asked, avoiding her eyes by keeping his own closed. Bao held her fingers to her lips, taken aback. He must not have done this sort of thing much, if at all, and this was the best way he could think to do it. It was around 5:00 now, and a Friday, so they did have a range of choices. Grimmjow could kick himself. He wasn't embarrassed, per se, although he was frustrated that doing this wasn't his strong suit.

"I guess we could go out to eat." She said, reflexively.

"Where?" He wanted to say a lot of things. He wanted her to know that 'where?' meant anywhere. Anywhere she wanted to go, he'd bring her. Whatever would make her comfortable around him, since discomfort was...unsavory. He wanted to fix this in some way, if only so she wouldn't have anything to say if she wanted to run to Kurosaki.

✦✦✦

Bao insisted on dressing up on some level, letting an impatient Grimmjow wait in his car, parked near her apartment, a stop they made on the way. She'd come out in a black bodycon dress with sleeves just past her elbows, and black heels. Grimmjow didn't care about being underdressed for anything, and wore what he wanted to; a black bomber jacket with a white shirt underneath, slightly ripped jeans and combat boots. They went to a steakhouse, Bennett's, for dinner.

The two didn't speak to each other. There was nothing to say that hadn't already been said at the gym. Grimmjow ordered his steaks, and Bao, pasta.

"Grimmjow?" She asked, having chosen to sit nearer to him, than across the table. He stopped, fork in midair, with a bloody cut of steak on the end of it. "What?"

"Well...Why did you do this? You didn't have to." Truthfully, Bao was extremely appreciative of this. Had Grimmjow not persuaded her to come with him, she'd be eating a disgusting microwave dinner instead. "Don't ask me things like that, woman," he replied, returning to his meal. Bao's eyes lowered, and she continued eating. She couldn't hold anything against him, this was probably the first "date" he'd ever been on. Then again, maybe it wasn't. Maybe he wanted to ease her worry, but maybe she was naïve for thinking such a thing. "You lied." He grunted, taking a swig of his beer.

"...?"

"You said you weren't hungry."

Bao opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He was right. It was more of a gut reaction but having been asked so suddenly didn't give her time to think about saying no. And why would she have? She wasn't sure if doing such a thing would have upset him, though the only qualms she had about it all was his attitude, and the shitty, guarded way he treated her.

She looked to Grimmjow, who continued eating despite not noticing what she now stared at.

"Wait." She called, earning an incredulous look from him. "It's...You've got..." She pressed a finger close to her mouth, barbecue sauce on Grimmjow's face. "Here, let me," She said, as he tried, and failed, to wipe whatever was on his face away. She propped his face up, fingers of her free hand gently placed underneath his chin, while the other used her napkin to wipe away the sauce.

Grimmjow had yet another moment to think. Another thing he wasn't used to, someone touching him in a way that wasn't a punch. He looked at her; her hair. Her face. _Her_. She smelled different this time, the vanilla scent underlying another perfume.

"All gone." She balled up the napkin and set it aside before continuing her meal. Grimmjow did the same, but not before giving her one more silent glance, just to take all of her in once more.


	6. Begging

The pair returned to Grimmjow's home, having enjoyed their night. At least, Bao was outspoken about such a feeling. Grimmjow wasn't the type to admit he liked anything, other than beating the hell out of opponents. She hadn't wanted to force conversation out of him through the entirety of their pseudo-date, but likewise hadn't wanted silence. Every now and then he'd talk, and mostly about himself, which she didn't mind only because it was a step in the right direction; things had to come naturally, and she was willing to be patient, but for how long, she was uncertain.

As the pair walked into his home, Bao following close behind him, she stopped just past the entryway as his walk slowed upon getting into the living room. Hands in his pockets, he noticed she wasn't following him, and turned around. She gestured to a door on the side wall, leading to the garage, where her car was housed. "I should get going, Grimmjow. It was nice; really, thank you for that."

"You don't have anywhere to be."

"Now how do you know that?"

"Because I said you don't. We're not done here, are we?" He replied, after a somewhat casual shrug of his shoulders.

The two never broke eye contact, even as he sauntered towards her, backing her against the door until it closed. Even as he locked it, she felt it seemed forbidden to look away from those cold, blue eyes. Bao began to get goosebumps, but she wasn't as frightened as she was when they were in this situation only a night before.

Grimmjow never asked people for anything. He wasn't going to start now. He couldn't ask for permission. It was strange to him, unnecessary. His goal was to be the type of person people would give anything to, no need to ask.

He could not physically bring himself to ask her permission, but it was her body. If he wanted her to give herself to him in all her entirety, he had to give her that much leeway. She could say no, and he would let her go. He'd be angry with himself, because he would know it was his fault, it was something he did or didn't do that upset her. But if she said yes...

_Can I...Can I...Can I?_

"Let me." Grimmjow whispered, betraying his thoughts. He watched her movements closely, he had to know if she was too nervous for him. Ichigo stopped being a concern long ago, and Grimmjow knew he could do what he wanted. Ichigo couldn't yank the leash back and keep him from her. It was inevitable that they'd be alone, and he'd be able to do—

She leaned up and kissed him, pressing her lips against his, halting his thoughts. His body soon reacted of its own accord, and he quickly held her close, hands exploring her shapely form.

Bao had held her hands together loosely, warily, before the kiss, and now nervously allowed Grimmjow to hold her, to pull her close. Her hands were soon just as guilty, tugging softly against his jacket, slipping in to press her hands against his chest. _God, was he built _. Grimmjow had never known compassion, so she wasn't surprised he was a rough and rude individual. She had plenty of love to give, in whatever form, and it seemed like he needed it the most. Maybe that was what ebbed her fear.__

____

____

He picked her up, and pressed her against the wall, and in one swift movement, helped her keep her legs tightly wrapped around his waist, feet crossed at the ankles. Her dress had been immediately pulled up, exposing the thin, silky layer between her legs. He took a handful of her hair for a moment, and released it, overwhelmed with the desire to _just keep touching her_. His hands trailed down to her cheeks, then her neck, giving it a restrained squeeze to let her know that he could do much more to her.

Grimmjow hardened between her legs, enticed by the messy, desire-driven kiss. Bao pulled back, breaking it, a thin trail of spit between them. His eyes were hazed, the blue they usually were, darkening. He attacked her neck, running a warm, slippery tongue over the skin before digging his teeth into her. All the sounds of the world seemed to fade as she only heard their own fevered breathing. Her eyes rolled back and closed as she bit the corner of her lip, clearly not used to being bitten. It only lasted for a few seconds more before he pressed against her further, as if he _knew_ , he _wanted_ her to feel him, now fully hard, against her panties. This brought her back.

"Stop!" Bao chanced, wiggling uncomfortably in his grasp. It was too much. It felt like he was going to lose control. He pulled back from her neck and reluctantly let her down, confused. She seemed to have wanted it. What was wrong? Grimmjow was a dominant, ruthless man at times, but he understood 'no'. Panicked, she yanked her dress backed down and smoothed it, making sure she was covered, and moved her hair from her face, all the while avoiding his gaze. He stayed stone still, watching as she drew panicked hands over her neck, hoping to wipe away all that he had done.

She looked flustered, and struggled to unlock the door behind her. He caught her wrists in his hand, and silently unlocked it in a simple, quick motion. "I'm sorry." She said, more to the door than to him. She quickly left, pulling her wrists from his grasp and hurrying to her car. Grimmjow waited for her to get out of earshot, out of sight before he angrily slammed the door. She'd be comfortable with anyone else, _anyone_ , of that he was sure.

It had to be something he was doing. He wasn't normal and she had to be picking up on that…couldn't she?

He put his hands in his hair, tangling them in his unruly locks, trying to figure out what he did. Was she a virgin? Was that why she was scared of him? It didn't feel right to play off of her fear like the others, if he wanted to get whatever he wanted from her, he couldn't do that. He didn't want to, anymore. Either way, he was sick of feeling this way, like something was his fault, but she wouldn't tell him, and he couldn't figure it out. He hoped she wouldn't tell Ichigo about this, mainly because he didn't want to get an earful of the redhead's bitching about boundaries and whatnot, but that meant he had to figure out what was wrong, and soon.

✦✦✦

"Are you sure? Well, how bad is it? I don't want you to feel like you absolutely have to be here every day." Ichigo replied. He was concerned. Neither Grimmjow nor Bao had shown up, then again, it was around a half hour before either were supposed to, as well as him.

He paced around the gym. He didn't expect Grimmjow to show up in a timely manner, seeing as it was Saturday, but if there were ever times Grimmjow needed to get something off of his mind, this was the first place he'd go. And only.

Bao, though, was claiming to be sick. "No. No, that's fine. Look, I don't want to see you at all around here until you're 100% better. Not for Grimmjow's sake or mine, or whatever, but for you. He's not the only one that has to be at his best." Ichigo heard the front door open, and close.

He smiled inwardly. "Yes, again, that's fine. Drink plenty of water, and make sure you're rested. I'll see you when I see you." He hung up, just as Grimmjow entered the room.

"Bao's sick." Ichigo spoke, as Grimmjow strutted past him, dropping his bag against a wall. "Fuck if I care. I'm not coming in tomorrow."

"Why?" The two of them knew the gym was closed regardless on Sundays, but on occasion, Ichigo opened it so as to get more solitary boxers a space. 

"Mind your business."

Ichigo raised his palms in defeat. "Alright, alright." He approached the other man, who seemed a little more on edge than usual, a little more aggravated and focused on getting to work than talking at all.

✦✦✦

On the way home, Grimmjow stopped into a grocery store. Whether it was to distract himself from Bao with the illusions of running errands, he couldn't say, but he did know that he was irrefutably hungry and needed to stock up, if only because it needed doing. He checked his phone as he stepped through the freezer section. No missed calls. Not that he was expecting any to begin with. He noticed his Photos app was still open, and that Bao had taken pictures. His walk slowed to a stop as he looked at one of her, and one of her and Ichigo. He set his jaw, and called her.

"Hello?" She asked. She knew it was him, now, and simply named the contact 'Grimm'. He almost wanted to close his eyes and simply listen to her talk—to listen to her respond to him. Almost. He pictured her in various states of relaxation, and wondered faintly what she was doing that she had to be physically separated from him.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at home."

"You're not sick."

"I know. Did you tell Ichigo?"

"No." He waited. She didn't say anything. "Come over."

"Grimmjow, I can't."

"Why not?" _Was she with someone?_

Bao couldn't admit that she was scared. She needed him to believe she wasn't leading him on, she wasn't wishy-washy about how she felt, but she wasn't ready to give herself to him. He'd probably screw up, and hurt her in some unimaginable fashion. She sat up straight, in bed, and muted the TV. She felt that whether she made up, or had a genuine reason as to why she couldn't go, he'd find a way to get them alone together.

She wasn't answering, so Grimmjow answered for her. "Then I'll come over."

Bao rubbed her forehead as he hung up. He needed to make a habit out of saying goodbye before he did that.

✦✦✦

Grimmjow arrived sometime later, like he said he would, after making a stop at his house mainly to dump all his groceries onto the kitchen table. He knew he wouldn't feel like bringing them back home, so better to have to deal with them later than have a distraction when all he wanted to focus on was…her. He'd leave of his own accord. He had walked, if only to get passive exercise and to relish in her not knowing when to expect him.

Now, they sat on the couch in the living room, Bao purposefully leaving the TV off. If he wouldn't leave, she'd make him feel like he should.

"What do you want, Grimmjow?"

"That's a bad question to ask me." He replied. "About 5'7", pissed at me for some reason. Doesn't like when I look at her ass."

Bao rolled her eyes, digging her fingers against her temple. If he was so ready to objectify her like this, then she couldn't stand to put up with him and pretend that they could have anything close to even friendship. "Get out." She said, without a hint of authority in her voice.

"No. I came over here for a reason."

"What?"

"To finish what I started. Don't act like you don't give a damn about me at all, now. You're always being so nice to me, the women I've met don't do that; they don't care about me and shit. I don't meet the kind that actually wanna..." He stopped, deciding he'd given too much away, as Bao had turned to face him. He was right. From what she'd heard, women didn't seem too impressed by him. He wasn't a disgusting slob; he cleaned up well and kept a semi-tidy home, but it was his personality that others found grating and insufferable. She could stand it, but only because there was good buried deep within him under piles, mountains of negativity and, probably, self-hate.

"Kiss you?" She questioned, almost disbelieving. He stared at her. She had a choice. He knew his worth, and even that was exaggerated by his arrogance. But when it came to something personal, he was at a loss for what to do. At least, from what she could tell. She stood, and grabbed Grimmjow's wrist, wordlessly leading him back to her bedroom.

✦✦✦

Ecstasy. The only word to describe it. Bao couldn't regret this if she wanted to; not at all. In fact, giving herself to Grimmjow may have been the best decision of her life.

Her bed rocked ceaselessly, Grimmjow's grunts and groans sounding as she gripped the pillow with every thrust, the two starting in missionary. He wasn't gentle, and probably wouldn't be even if she asked. Being gentle took time, it took patience and the want to enjoy every painfully slow thrust. That wasn't his style. Even now, the last time he remembered he'd even had sex with weeks, maybe a month ago. But that girl was long gone, and he wasn't nearly as drunk as he was that day. No, this was a pleasure that needed to be felt when one was absolutely sober, 100% wide-awake. A few strands of hair stuck to their foreheads as their bodies warmed. Grimmjow had left the bedroom door wide open.

He leaned down and caught her neck in his hand, gently running his thumb over her throat, as if testing the smooth skin. She squealed and writhed beneath him, shirt hiked up so as to expose her chest. The two were partially clothed, as Grimmjow didn't have the patience to fully undress. He'd only yanked down the front of his sweatpants, and thrown his shirt, as well as her panties, to a pile on the floor. Bao managed to open a single eye to a slit, and noticed he had a silver chain with a '6' on the end of it around his neck.

He'd done it. It's not like he wanted a relationship with the girl, so this ought to have satisfied him. He finally got something he wanted, after going through pointless, roundabout shit to stall him. She felt good, good enough to make the man bite his lip, and though they continued missionary for the moment, he'd grab her ankles and manipulate her, move her around, try her in different angles—one felt particularly good, and caused him to tighten his grip on her, and inhale sharply through his teeth. The best thing about this? He wasn't even close to done with her.

He made her call his name, something he'd wanted her to do for a while now. She nearly screamed it, arching her back for him, fingers pulling helplessly at the sheets. He pulled out.

"Turn around." He ordered, and thought himself generous for giving her a moment to catch her breath. He knew he was the best she'd had, she looked like she'd never gotten anything like this before, that she didn't know a man like him could feel this good. But he'd prove to her that she'd come crawling back, spending her days with him in the gym, unable to keep her eyes off _him_ for once.

Finally, she was ready for him, on all fours, looking over her shoulder at him. That innocence of hers, that 'be gentle' look on her face, in her eyes, that'd be the death of him. He steadied himself, and thrust mercilessly into her, reveling in her surprised yelp. His hips seemed to buck on their own as he reached forward and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling on it, deepening her arch.

She felt a painful sting as he used his free hand to swat her ass. Repeatedly. He leaned down, and in a low, lust-filled yet threatening whisper, growled into her ear. "Don't make a fucking sound."

She whimpered, and in response, Grimmjow pulled even harder. "Shut up." He commanded. She did her best to obey him, moans cut short to breathy gasps. He swatted her again, leaving the red mark across her skin even brighter. "I said **shut up**." He thrust harder, to emphasize his words. She put one of her hands across her mouth, muffling her sounds, her body shaking under him. "There...That's more like it. Don't make me have to tell you again, woman." He spoke between breaths.

Bao had never had anything like him before. She'd been on dates, she'd had sex before. But none of those men were as dominance-oriented as he was. He knew exactly what he wanted, and apparently what she wanted, seeing as she was loving this. She was actually loving this!

Grimmjow edged on finishing, and it was only then that he realized he hadn't put on a condom, and wanted to finish inside her. He'd have to save that for another day, unfortunately. His breathing became heavier, and he released her hair to dig his fingers in her hips. _Fuck...!_

His breath hitched, and he pulled out, resting his length on her, to finish on her lower back.

Bao's firm grip on the sheets released slowly as she felt the sporadic warmth of what he'd done. He exhaled, one definitive breath, and looked at her lower back, and then her, as she looked over her shoulder.

"Grimmjow..."

He raised a hand, and placed a single finger to his lips, shushing her. She looked down, and decided to do it herself. She eased out of bed on shaky legs, and carefully walked to the bathroom to get cleaned up, using the wall as support. Grimmjow fixed his sweatpants, and laid back on one side of the bed, propped up against the headboard, one hand on his chest, the other between his head and the pillow.

He'd have to come over more often.


	7. Territory

Grimmjow awoke with a start. He must have fallen asleep while she was cleaning up after him. Either way, he was under the blankets, and the other side of the bed looked messy, as though she'd gotten up already. He could smell food cooking, and hear the faint popping of grease from a pan. 8:22 AM.

He sat up and slid out of bed. He saw her as he emerged from the hallway, her back to him, busy at work over the stove with the distraction of music from her phone nearby. He didn't say a word to alert her of his presence, and slinked silently behind her, easing onto the counter.

Surprisingly, it took a while for her to turn around. She jumped, of course, when she finally did, but didn't smile at him. "I was wondering when you'd wake up…help yourself, I guess." She gestured to the food available, careful not to show him eagerness or too much hospitality—she didn't want him thinking this would be a regular thing, and that he was now owed or could expect this from her.

Grimmjow took note of her appearance once more. Her hair was a bit of a mess, but kept in low pigtails, wearing a too-big t-shirt that largely covered her shorts. He'd neglected to put his shirt back on, his scar-ridden torso exposed. Bao had sheltered a healthy curiosity when it came to asking about their origin—the large one, two or three shades darker than his skin, a darker, horizontal one at the top of the largest one, and the two more faint ones on his wrists—but she felt it rude, and kept quiet. Though it was difficult not to ask if only to start conversation with the man, especially about the black '6' tattoo on his back. She turned to leave the kitchen, but Grimmjow took hold of the bottom of her shirt, and gently pulled her back to his front, to stare her down, apparently.

Bao scratched her head, and thought to say something, but nothing immediately came to mind. He reached up and held her chin with his thumb and first finger, and pressed his lips to hers once more. Truly, she wanted him to do all of it to her again. And again, and again, and again, until she could barely move. But she couldn't ask. It wasn't even supposed to happen.

"When are you leaving?" Bao asked, softly.

"You don't want me to. Not for a while." Grimmjow returned, leaning back and releasing her. He swung his feet a bit and continued. "Unless you do. Tell me you do and I'll go." He teased, the corner of his mouth upturned. Bao disingenuously laughed, flashing a mock smile before rolling her eyes and gesturing back to the food. "I'm not going to offer again. Eat if you're going to, and get out." She then took her leave as Grimmjow kept his amused expression, one that faded slowly once she was out of sight.

✦✦✦

The day went on. Strange enough, neither of them had gotten a call or text from Ichigo. Grimmjow couldn't care less, while Bao assumed he was busy with his friends. She didn't know them very well, and frankly, she felt she hadn't the time to sit down and do so. Especially when she was busy with Grimmjow. He didn't feel like training, or even talking about the bout he was scheduled for. He seemed to only want to talk about what the two of them were doing.

"You sore?" Grimmjow asked, a patronizing grin on his lips. Bao avoided his gaze, and lied, "No."

"I'll have to fix that, then."

Grimmjow had insisted the two go out, and 'do something', and Bao had no argument for resisting. She felt that if she showed any signs of wanting to be around Grimmjow, or having interest in him, romantically, that she'd be ignored, criticized, made fun of.

Regardless they now took Bao's car to the theater, located in the mall. Grimmjow hadn't really given her a choice, so he drove. Bao sat carefully on the passenger side, indeed sore from the night before. This did nothing but boost his ego, satisfying him to no end. He loved that he could have this effect on her, as many times as he wanted now.

Grimmjow thought he caught a glimpse of a hickey on her neck, hidden by her hair. He didn't get to look at it long before he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He answered it, without looking at who was calling. "What?" He said, not caring who was on the other end, be it Ichigo, one of his friends, or an extremely unlikely call from one of Aizen's subordinates.

"Grimmjow, the bout's getting pushed up. I haven't been able to reach Bao all day, so hopefully you can, or whatever. The most we can have her do is come along when the day comes. It's Tuesday, probably Wednesday. Okay?"

The blue-haired man rolled his eyes. What did he care; he was ready and willing to cut down anyone that was unlucky enough to be paired up with a powerhouse such as himself. "Yeah."

"Do you know what's going on with Bao? Where is she?"

Grimmjow merely declined knowing, hung up, and pocketed his phone. There was no reason for Ichigo to know what they were doing or where they were going. If he found out, he found out, but Grimmjow didn't want to deal with it now.

✦✦✦

By the time he parked, he looked to see her sleeping. He gently hit her upper arm, shaking it seconds later. "Wake up, woman. We're here."

Bao drowsily woke up, rubbing her eye with the base of her hand. She mumbled incoherently as she left the car, Grimmjow already locking it and ahead of her. She had to jog to keep up with him, and thought to hold his arm while they walked, but didn't want to offend him in some way, or be rejected.

The mall was packed, as it usually was on the weekends. An indoor amusement park housed dozens of rides, from small ones designed for children, to large, intricate ones for teenagers and adults. He didn't plan to go there, of course. Straight to the theater. He didn't intend for this outing to turn into a shopping spree, but if she wanted something, she'd better speak up, and not right before they were leaving. The two made their way up an escalator, and while they were still, Grimmjow moved his arm. He kept his hand pocketed, but looked to Bao and gestured for her to take it.

She held him obediently, and walked at his side, feeling a bit better knowing that he wanted her to do such a thing.

Every now and then they'd pass a group of people that were spending their day there, and a few looked at her, but only because she looked as well. She wondered what it was like to be with someone who didn't treat her like she was property, like whatever she had with Grimmjow, if anything, was the norm, and what she deserved. They now waited in line. He'd neglected to tell her what they were going to see, but had previously settled on a horror film, _Presence_. He wanted to see her scared, but this time, scared enough that she would cling to him like she'd clung to Ichigo.

They soon seated themselves in the middle of the center section in their respective theater. It was a while before the movie was supposed to start, so they, and everyone excitedly gathering around them, had time.

"Did Ichigo call?" Bao asked, a large cup held by both her hands. Grimmjow fought back a groan. "Yeah." He answered after waiting a moment. She continued with follow-up questions. "Does he know where we are? Does he need us?"

"Stop talking about him. He doesn't need us and he didn't ask anything." Grimmjow replied, sternly. Bao raised her eyebrows for a second, making a face at his curtness, and began eating.

_What is it; what the hell is it with her and Kurosaki? He's not here, so who cares what he wants, who cares what he's doing?_

Part of him told him that it was somewhat reasonable for her to worry about Kurosaki. It was only natural; she'd known him longer, while the two of them had only just met. Another part was greedy, wanted nothing more than her attention, and for her to shower him in her love and affection. He reached over and wrapped his arm around her, draping it over her left shoulder. "Do you want anything?"

Bao tilted her head just slightly. He must have meant later on, when the movie was over. Did she want to do a bit of shopping? "M'hm, later." She held her drink up to him, and he took the straw in the corner of his mouth, staring at her with that same, half-lidded, almost unimpressed look. He drank, eyes never leaving hers.

✦✦✦

They returned to Grimmjow's house almost immediately after the movie. Grimmjow would go to his grave, never admitting that he loved when she cowered into him, when she was scared enough to bury her face and shield her eyes in his side. He was unsure whether she'd even seen the movie, knowing she spent most of her time in a frightened, anxious state. He didn't care. As long as she was cuddled up to him, that was all that mattered.

He was taking her again, now, but this time, let her ride him. Her hips rolled expertly, the soft squish of him filling her to the base heard. He watched her, pleased, and relaxed with his hands behind his head as he sat up against the headboard. He'd stripped her nude, while he remained almost fully clothed. It got him off, seeing her look like a cheap fuck he could use over and over. Her hands pressed gently against his chest for balance. It wasn't long before he joined in, his hips thrusting up and hands snaking to her backside, grabbing her firmly to pull her down into his movements. He was deeper now than last time, earning frenzied moans from her.

His phone rang. Eyes still glazed with pleasure, he felt around his nightstand for it, and held it up. "You on birth control?" He asked. She remembered having confirmed this to him last time, but she wasn't surprised he'd already forgotten. Bao slowed to a stop, but before she could say anything, he clasped her neck. " **I didn't say you could stop**." She resumed, obeying him, but nodded. She was.

He took a quick glance at who was calling—none other than Kurosaki. "Ch'." He pressed his thumb against 'decline' and practically tossed it back onto his nightstand to land with a low clatter.

"Turn around." Bao heard him say. Things tended to...happen when he said that, and they were a bit more than she could handle. But she didn't want him to stop; she'd beg for it if it wouldn't fuel his ego to critical. She rode him, ass facing him now, and only sought to go faster once he moaned, letting his head roll back, hands busy at work on her backside.

He spread her, met with the sight of him entering her again and again. There were so many things he could do to make this better, to get him closer, faster. He could dress her up, buy her heels, lingerie, all that lacy, girly shit. Just so he could take it all off.

Just thinking about it caused him to edge. He grabbed her once more, and quickened his pace. Her hair reached further down as her head rolled back. "Say it." Grimmjow demanded. She could barely comprehend him. Her eyes were opened to slits, and she could only focus on how good he kept making her feel. He spanked her, harder than usual, and repeated himself. "Fuckin' say it, say my name…!"

She called out to him, voice heavy with submission. He came, now holding her hips in the vices that were his hands. "Keep going..." He added, panting as she slowly continued, his load spilling down his shaft. The tip was extremely sensitive, so he had to let her off whenever she chose to, otherwise he risked a second time.

"Good girl."


	8. Ready for Anything

Their night together had ended differently than Grimmjow expected. Once they had cleaned themselves up, she gathered her belongings—things that Grimmjow had bought for her—and quickly left. Grimmjow didn't stop her, as he knew she'd come back and spend another night with him. He was irresistible to her, of that he was certain. But he couldn't help but feel somewhat surprised that she was so ready to leave him so soon. It wasn't that late. Perhaps she wanted to be ready for their training since the date was pushed up, but there was no way she would know that.

Thinking about it gave him a headache and filled his mind with unwanted thoughts and unanswered questions. He leaned back, his bedroom held the lingering post-smell of sex. Blue eyes staring at the ceiling, he wondered silently when she'd come back. So far, they hadn't missed a day, and he wanted her until...well, until he didn't anymore, and could handle a break from her. Such a thing didn't seem likely, but anything could happen.

✦✦✦

"Were you looking for me over the weekend, Ichigo?" Bao asked, her tone quiet as she spoke to him while Grimmjow worked the training bag a ways off. Ichigo blinked, those deep, brown eyes bright with confusion. "Hm? Oh, yeah. Sorry, I couldn't get a hold of you since you got sick. But you're here now, and that's what's important. I just had to let you know, and I don't know how you'll take this, but Grimmjow's next bout, the one at their arena? It's either Tuesday, or Wednesday. We can't say for sure." Ichigo muffled his suspicions, something he wasn't entirely good at, unless the situation desperately called for him to hold his tongue.

"Ugh, that doesn't leave us with a ton of time, but he's improved so much…." Bao raised an eyebrow as Ichigo placed his hand on her shoulder, his smile faded. "Where were you?"

His seriousness knotted her stomach. With a defeated sigh, she brushed the curly strands from her sight. "With him."

"Bao, he isn't someone you want to mess around with like that. He is a friend and all, but...he doesn't know how to treat anybody decent unless it's him. Has he hurt you?" He placed his hand on her jawline, tilting her head and looking for handprints around her neck. No such thing.

"No." She said, simply. "He didn't want you to find out, but I don't like the way he tries to keep it a secret from you, it's rude. It sucks." Bao shrugged. "But the thing is...it was only a few times. I can't really see myself with him. You were right. He's a pretty mean guy." She admitted, with a false smile. They both turned to watch Grimmjow circle the bag, his fists flying with blinding speed, near perfect precision. He barely heard what they were saying, but the longer they talked, the less he focused on the task at hand. Another Monday. He was going off the thought that his bout was the following day, giving him even more reason to concentrate on what he was doing.

Bao approached him with some water as he finished using the bag. A resistance band hung from her forearm. He took the bottle from her, messily drinking from it, not caring about the drops that missed his mouth and trailed quickly down his neck. He aimed to take gentle hold of her chin once more, seeing as Ichigo was momentarily distracted, but she brushed his hand away. "You're not finished." She added. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes as she shoved the resistance band into his hands, turned on her heels, and returned to Ichigo's side to monitor his progress.

✦✦✦

The end of the day seemed to come too soon. Grimmjow felt he was ready, that his body stayed as perfectly-sculpted as ever, and that he'd reduce his opponent to a quivering, broken-bodied pile at his feet. These images were enough to psych him up. He was ready. Ichigo, for once, sided with him. He didn't care if Grimmjow listened, but he reminded the boxer of key techniques to never let go of, to make sure stayed available in the back of his mind. Grimmjow merely nodded, and grabbed his belongings. He heard a car start outside, and only then had he noticed Bao was gone. She was avoiding him; he understood now. He wasn't worried about whether he'd done something, and as much as it wrenched at him, he gave her time to think things over.

Before Grimmjow took his leave, he stopped in the doorway. "Kurosaki."

"What?" Ichigo asked, locking up various equipment and doors.

"What did you tell her?"

Ichigo paused. He caught on quick, which was strange, even for Grimmjow. He boldly replied, "I didn't tell her anything. She told me. I'd advise you to stay away from her, Grimmjow. Focus on your job."

"Don't give me that shit. Don't talk to me like I'm a child. What, is this because you want her, or something?"

Ichigo flinched. Of course he didn't. She was nothing more than a close friend, he couldn't imagine being involved...romantically with her. Besides, he was active elsewhere. "You tell me not to treat you like a child, and then you say childish shit to me." He said, calmly. Grimmjow scoffed, and the two traded looks of agitation. Their fights were often, but they kept them verbal. Ichigo knew the mechanics of how Grimmjow fought, but that didn't mean he'd stand a chance against a direct onslaught. They had fought once in the past, as a result of a bad argument. Grimmjow wiped the floor with him. It wasn't something he'd like to repeat, but if things led to that again...

"You've got a weigh-in to get to, Grimmjow. You don't need to be concerned with getting her alone. She's headed over there now, anyway. So, come on."

Grimmjow slid his hand back into his pocket, following Ichigo.

✦✦✦

"Hello and welcome to Silver Banks arena, where we're gathered for the weigh-in between Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, and Bazz-B!" A gray-haired man announced, dressed in a suit and standing on a small stage, microphone in one hand, rectangular piece of paper in the other. Ichigo and Bao stayed to Grimmjow's left and right. What they were doing, he was unsure. He only knew that they needed to speak directly to whatever officials came near him. In a sea of faces, and rushing bodies, Grimmjow caught the cocky smile of a man with a brightly-colored mohawk, eyes hidden behind a pair of dark shades. A red dress shirt, gloves, and black jeans. He looked antsy, just itching for a fight. A man in a long coat, with an odd amount of facial hair—Ichigo had told him about someone named Yhwach—stood motionless next to his fighter. Presumably, that was his coach.

Grimmjow merely watched, as he did with all of his prey. What people failed to realize about him was that he was smart—he honed in on people's weaknesses, their shortcomings, their overconfidences, and exploited them. He was secure in his own abilities, but never missed an opportunity to secure failure in others'.

"Ladies and gentlemen, making his way to the stage!" The announcer began again. He looked to his right. Bao gently covered her ears every time the announcer spoke into his microphone. The crowd, practically bursting out of the arena, grew restless as he called Bazz-B to the stage. He sauntered up the stairs, surrounded by his team, and a plum-haired woman trailing behind.

"Now, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques!" The announcer called, and he boxer could feel himself hurried along by his team. Ichigo and Bao stayed to his sides as he stepped up, raising a hand to the crowd, who cheered as loud as they had for Bazz-B.

Bao looked on. As stone-faced as he was, chances were he was still happy to be there, and ready to fight. He wanted to beat Bazz-B. There was nothing he wanted more. Except the title—but that was still a ways away...for now.

The weigh-in soon began, as both fighters stepped back to their respective sides, and stripped down to their briefs. Bazz-B went first, shooting Grimmjow a triumphant look as he stepped onto the scales. He was built, that much was clear. But that didn't mean that he was stronger than Grimmjow. It didn't mean he was better, faster, smarter, or more dedicated. He was, or at the bare minimum made it appear as though he was, ready to fight.

"Bazz-B weighs in at 170 pounds! 170, for Bazz-B." He flexed, showing off what he'd gained in the time he spent training. Grimmjow scoffed, knowing he'd utterly destroy that mohawk-wearing weakling. He took note once more of Yhwach and the woman near him, stoically keeping their eyes on their fighter.

Bazz-B stepped off the scale and looked back to Grimmjow, gesturing with his head. Grimmjow fought back a look of disgust, not wanting that piece of shit to get confused and think that he had any effect on him. Grimmjow stepped up when his name was called, and onto the scales. He rolled his shoulders, and opened and closed his hands, looking onward into the crowd. Bao and Ichigo looked on as the announcer called, "175 for Grimmjow Jeagerjaques; 175."

Grimmjow kept a straight face, and ignored Bazz-B, who said something to his coach about him, no doubt. He flexed as well, showing the crowd, doing as he was used to. Even though he had to do this often, every time felt new. Every bout and everything leading up to bouts was a chance to show who he was—that was what was most important.

He watched Bao trail after Ichigo as the latter handed him a pair of sweatpants to put on, Grimmjow's shirt balled into his hand. "Nice job, Grimmjow," He started. Bao nodded in agreement, absentmindedly but reassuringly patting his back.

"You're gonna have to take some pictures. Get over there."

Grimmjow's expression contorted, but he wasn't surprised. He turned and stepped toward the front of the stage, and Bazz-B mirrored his movements, their respective teams near enough to them. The two stood near each other, but didn't once trade glances.

At least, not until Bazz-B turned to face him.

The two stared each other down, their gazes unblinking. Grimmjow's stance didn't waver, Bazz-B fidgeted only slightly. Their staredown triggered flash upon flash, bright lights showering the fighters as outlets worked to capture the perfect angle to advertise the fight. They finally backed up, and returned to cameras on other sides of the stage.

"Garbage," Bazz-B said confidently to a match reporter. "he's going to get killed out here."

Grimmjow and Ichigo exchanged glances and looked on, watching him loudly tell them his opinion of Grimmjow, having sized him up. "It's an insult that he's even here." Bazz-B laughed, an almost crazed look in his eye.

The reporter spoke to Grimmjow moments later. "And you, how's Bazz-B looking for you?"

Grimmjow set his jaw, shrugging with raised eyebrows. "He thinks he's hot shit. Let's see how long he can stay on his feet."

Bao smiled, proud of Grimmjow. Only now was she feeling excitement. Hearing such confident, yet simple words from Grimmjow made it hard to keep that smile back. The crowd cheered, and Ichigo nodded, gesturing for Grimmjow to follow them, as the weigh-in had come to an end.

✦✦✦

The ride home was silent. Bao had taken her car, so as to spare herself from riding with the others. Grimmjow had been secure in his fighting long before Bao came into the picture, but he was allowed to hope she was impressed, to hope she wanted to commend him, that she'd taken notice of how seriously he took at least one thing in his life. Ichigo had him in the passenger seat, a few cars behind Bao. "No loose ends you need to tie up?"

"Right then and there," Grimmjow said, more as a reaction to Ichigo talking than as a response to the question. "I was close, so close, to knocking his fucking teeth in."

"Good thing you didn't. Save all that for tomorrow night. We'll get you up and working early so your muscles get plenty warmed up."

Grimmjow rolled down the window in response, getting a breath of fresh air.

He had to see her tonight. He couldn't wait until the morning; his nights weren't the same without her soft form to treat himself to.

✦✦✦

She opened the door, her hair straightened and longer than the usual curliness that passed, or sat upon her shoulders, clad in a black nightie. Had she worn this for him? Had she known he was coming, regardless of what Ichigo would say?

No.

Bao hadn't intended on seeing him at all. "What?" She asked, folding her arms in front of her chest as he stared, leaning against one side of the doorway, his arm above his head, rested on the door frame. "Look at you," He started, reaching in with his free hand and hooking a finger around her strap, easing it off her shoulder. "you just couldn't wait, could you?"

"...Good luck with your fight tomorrow, Grimmjow. Goodnight." She said, coldly, and with her eyes skimming the ground.

Grimmjow's smirk vanished as quickly as it'd come, and he stood up straight. He put his foot against the bottom of her door, and leaned in. "What's your problem? I didn't come here to get kicked out."

"I don't have a problem. You shouldn't be here, and you should listen to Ichigo. Stay away from me."

Grimmjow paused. She'd told him to stay away. She really didn't want to see him. Any other time, he would've acted like he didn't care, he would've brushed it off and stepped inside. But he was frozen. Stuck.

"Don't say shit like that." He said, incredulously at first, as though they both knew her standing up to him was a joke and that he was welcome at her home. She'd liked what he did to her, she liked being his…plaything, for lack of a better term. He wasn't hurting her in any way she didn't like, right? So what was the problem?

"Why shouldn't I? You wouldn't take me seriously when I told you to stop. You kept coming, you kept following me. Leave me alone, Grimmjow." These words pained Bao to say them, but she was only saying what Ichigo had been, only Grimmjow would listen to her, if only a little bit.

"Woman..." He trailed off, but she stopped him. "And that's another thing. You haven't called my name once. Ichigo can say it, why can't you? It's Bao. Bao Vue. And I don't need to give myself to someone who won't even bother to remember my name!"

Grimmjow had had enough. His teeth grated, and he finally yelled, "Shut up!"

Bao bitterly quieted and looked away. He stepped into the apartment; or rather, she'd let him. What was she to do? He'd never go away, and it was best she either get used to him. This is what she had asked for, to know him. She just hadn't expected it to be so difficult.

"You keep saying all this, you think I don't give a shit about you."

"Because you don't!"

"You're damn right I don't!" He retorted a bit too quick, turning to face her. This caught them both off guard. He hadn't meant that. He swore he hadn't. It was a slip of the tongue, nothing more.

"Then go." Bao's voice broke as her throat warmed, vision blurring and misty.

"I'm not going anywhere, and I'm tired of you thinking I'll go when you tell me to."

Bao gave up. She closed the door, and locked it. Apparently Grimmjow was staying he night.

She stood as he stepped toward her, stopping at a hair's breadth of a distance. Neither moved. He only looked down at her, watching her once more until she was uncomfortable enough to look away. He couldn't do it. His plans were thrown off. Tonight, he'd just sleep with her. Just sleep. Even if she didn't want him here, it was what _he_ wanted that mattered to him.

There was one important thing in his life, one thing that came first, and that was his fighting. His training, his career: all of that was much more important than anything else. He didn't understand quite how to appeal to her in whatever way she wanted, but he wanted her to be okay with this, with him being the way he was. It was an absolute and utter lie to say that he was here right now because he wanted to spend time with her, to be nice to her and shit. He came for a much more physical reason. But he couldn't stand her crying because of him, proving Kurosaki right with every shitty feeling he gave her. Boxing was something he'd made all his own, something he could use to channel all the terrible shit he'd put up with for so long into something productive, something that would give his life meaning in his hunt for sovereignty, for freedom.

And part of that freedom was claiming her. He wanted her, but equally wanted her to give herself to him. Being under Aizen meant being denied so much, for so long, being used and molded to fit someone else's desires. After such a life, Grimmjow believed himself to deserve whatever good came his way, and if Ichigo saw Bao as good, as someone worth bringing around him with the addition of pretty, kind, soft, warm…he wanted it. He wanted it all to himself.


	9. The Heat

Grimmjow hadn't slept at all. Though Bao lay sound asleep, gentle breaths sounding as her chest rose and fell, he'd been up, silent. He wasn't tired, and it was nearing dawn. He let his fingertips brush gently over her skin. Bazz-B was all that crossed his mind. Bao stirred, and looked to move a bit closer to him, but instead, rolled over, clearly asleep. He looked out the window.

There was always plenty of time before a bout; time to think, time to relax oneself and steel one's nerves. This was not to say that Grimmjow absolutely needed such a thing, but he needed to quell his excitement, his eagerness to make another opponent another stepping stone.

He was out of bed faster than he realized, dressed, and on his way. A walk in the balmy, early hours of a summer day back home grounded him. Woke him up. The fog that slowly pulled back refreshed him. It hurt nothing to leave her behind, if only the morning of the bout, and once she saw his fight, she'd understand his priorities.

✦✦✦

"Go," Ichigo advised, starting his stopwatch, and Grimmjow pumped out as many push-ups as he could. His sharp, exhaled breaths could be heard as he easily blazed past thirteen in the first ten seconds. He wouldn't stop til he was covered with sweat. "One-handed." Ichigo stated, without looking at the boxer. He had Bao note Grimmjow's progress on a clipboard. She stayed still, keeping diligent and keeping her distance. He wanted the boxer to feel this workout all the way into his match. Grimmjow did as he was told, if only to prove to Ichigo that it wasn't a problem for someone like him.

"Switch." Ichigo advised, louder, this time. Clearly, something was up. "Yhwach called." Ichigo informed Grimmjow, bitterly. In reality, he merely wanted to give the boxer more of a drive to win, as he hadn't received a call. But this was a roll of the dice, considering Grimmjow's capacity for overreacting. "He claims Bazz-B can see right through everything that you've got. That you've got predictable punches and his guy's coming out as the winner."

Grimmjow scoffed, getting to his feet. "You tell him to blow me. I'll hand him back Bazz-B's head, and we'll see who's the winner."

Ichigo smiled, marveling at Grimmjow's mix of fearless determination with expected arrogance. He was certainly ready, beyond a doubt.

✦✦✦

They'd taken Ichigo's car to the arena, followed closely by the rest of the team. A stillness settled amongst them, no need to ask Grimmjow if there was anything he had concerns about. Even if he did, he'd lie about them, so it was pointless to ask. He sat up front, gray t-shirt and sweatpants, his gym bag at his feet. Bao was seated in the back, with Ichigo at the wheel. She feared for Grimmjow. It was a fight, obviously, but what if he were injured seriously? Bazz-B looked as though he lived his life threatening everyone that ever came near him, why should Grimmjow be an exception?

They arrived, parking in a small lot reserved for fighters. The trio exited the car, and headed for the locker room on their designated side. As Grimmjow readied himself, he took in his surroundings once more.

The sharp coldness of the locker room, the smell of concrete and metal, the blinding, fluorescent lights above his head, the muffled roar of fans piling into the arena, as if burrowed into his very chest. He could feel the entire place in his arms and all the way down to his fingertips, simply from being there. It was a rush only this sport gave him, and he had to remind himself to breathe before it suffocated him.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo said, some time later as Grimmjow stood, fully dressed, before him. "You've got to make every hit count. I know I tell you this twenty times a bout, but—"

"Then stop telling me. Quit your worrying." Grimmjow glowered at his trainer, before his cutman pulled the hood of his robe over his head.

Ichigo quickly replied as he, Grimmjow, Bao, and the team grouped up at the exit of the locker room, ready to walk the path to the ring. "I'm not worried. Show me you've actually been listening. Show me you deserve to win this shit." He delighted in Grimmjow's laugh—it almost had a nostalgic quality to it, despite them having gone through this a thousand times. All the fights they'd prepared for and all the times they'd been leaving locker rooms together…it all changed and it all stayed the same.

The crowd erupted, cheers and loud whistles sounding when he made his appearance, pulling his way up and into the ring. Bazz-B was waiting for him. The crowd buzzed restlessly, their cheers growing louder. Most of his outfit was maroon on white.

"Meni," Bazz-B called, leaning over the ropes to call to that same, long-haired woman Grimmjow had seen following him at the weigh-in.

"Don't get too comfortable. We'll be in and out in no time."

This irked Grimmjow, if only because it was so painfully obvious that his opponent was so frustratingly ignorant of his abilities that he went to _these_ lengths to get under his skin. But if cheap, moronic tricks like these were all he focused on, the match would be over soon, indeed.

The referee called the two of them to the center, and explained the rules to them. Grimmjow heard nothing, and only narrowed his eyes at the ever-growing smirk of his opponent. What the fuck was so funny?

"...Alright?" The ref looked to both of them. Grimmjow hadn't moved. "You look uncomfortable. Why don't you give up; this shit'll only wear you out." He said, raising his gloves to tap Grimmjow's. He didn't respond, and they backed up to their respective corners. Ichigo, the cutman, an assist, and Bao waited for Grimmjow. "Every single strike, Grimmjow. Turn everything back on him; he's going to talk shit—that's his job is to bother the hell out of you."

Grimmjow shed his robe, having donned his colors that he'd worn in the fight against Iori. He opened his mouth and was immediately met with a mouth guard. He rolled his shoulders and head a few times, and hopped in place, rolling his wrists. Adrenaline coursed through his being. He gave Bao one more glance before turning to face Bazz-B. Soon, it was just the two of them. They ignored the ref, and charged at each other, fighting at close range.

Bazz-B was on the defensive most of the time, more often than not successfully evading Grimmjow's strikes. This frustrated him; he couldn't tell what kind of fighter the other man was if he was going to spend his time blocking. He went for the face. Bazz-B leaned back, and took advantage of the space Grimmjow left, a quick jab meeting with his jaw. Grimmjow bounced back, shaking his head just a bit. Ichigo watched him carefully. He trusted Grimmjow to know what to do, to be smart and not leave too many openings like that to Bazz-B's advantage.

Grimmjow stepped around him, circling him, maintaining a slight distance so as to get used to his moves. Bazz-B continued stepping forward, no matter the risk of giving Grimmjow an opening. His arms stayed perfectly framing his head. Slow, patient, ready steps. Grimmjow was usually an in-fighter, a fighter that preferred to be at close-range and keep his attacks as such, and he would always be. But Bazz-B's style was...sporadic. Unpredictable. Odd. He'd need a little while before he developed something to get around it.

Grimmjow unsteadied him, reaching out to land a punch to his opponent's cheek, seconds before the bell rang, and they were separated. Grimmjow stepped backwards, keeping his eyes on Bazz-B as he seated himself before his corner.

"You're doing great, Grimmjow, nothing much to say right now, you're clean, keep it up." Ichigo coaxed, stepping before him and blocking off his sight of Bazz-B. He placed a towel over Grimmjow's face, wiping the sweat off. Bao hurriedly came to his side, but stayed out of the ring. She looked hopefully at him, gently holding onto the lowest rope. Grimmjow's eyes went back and forth, from Bazz-B to this coach. "Kurosaki," He started, knowing they had only about a minute to speak to each other. He had Ichigo's attention. "Are you looking at that old fuck over there?" He gestured to Yhwach. Ichigo nodded.

"Yeah. I know." The two exchanged looks, as if simultaneously noting Bazz-B's coach, and Grimmjow rose, ignoring the hands of his cornermen on him, just as Bazz-B had, to begin the second round.

Bazz-B now dropped his defensive state to give Grimmjow a fighting chance. This annoyed him greatly, causing him to change up the way he attacked. He bobbed and weaved, and the two landed blow after blow upon each other. Bao noticed Grimmjow's footwork had greatly improved with the more strict training regimen he'd been put through. Grimmjow took a few hooks to his defense, but didn't flinch at all. He kept himself steady, allowing Bazz-B's punches to slide off his gloves, freeing him up to attack the latter's sides, and face. Grimmjow kept close, giving Bazz-B as little room to use the full strength of his punches. His foolish smirk had disappeared, Bazz-B had recognized what a threat to his streak Grimmjow could be. Yhwach, on the other hand, wasn't at all concerned. He watched carefully as Meninas spoke to Bao, but what really intrigued him was the cold, calculating glare Ichigo occasionally sent his way.

If he had any confidence in his fighter, he wouldn't have looked his way. Grimmjow had to have a weakness, and it wouldn't take long for Bazz-B to exploit it. Once he did, he'd get to enjoy the look of pure hopelessness from Grimmjow's coach. He'd advised Bazz-B to save his attack for when he was absolutely sure Grimmjow was on the edge of exhaustion. Not necessarily ready to give up, but slowed and desperate. He returned his attention to the fight. Bazz-B could hold his own, and was proving to be a slight challenge for Grimmjow, so long as he changed up.

Grimmjow kept close. Bazz-B unleashed jab after jab, and Grimmjow weaved out of the way, Bazz-B's attacks sliding off. Grimmjow's pride wouldn't let the fight continue this way; he couldn't just play off of the openings Bazz-B left, he had to make some himself, he had to work on overwhelming his opponent.

Bazz-B took advantage of the split second he used to think, and backed Grimmjow into the ropes, having him on the defensive. Bao called out to him, barely heard over the roaring Bazz-B fans. Grimmjow gritted his teeth, arms defiantly protecting his face. He waited as Bazz-B released such a barrage, until he could evade it, and quickly got on the other side of him.

"That's it, Grimmjow, stay up!" Ichigo yelled, anxiously holding onto the edge of the ring. He had the utmost confidence in Grimmjow. He could do this, he was leagues above Bazz-B in strength, he had to be. But without a place to put all of it, and most time spent on the defensive, how much longer would he have before it was too late?


	10. The Heat 2

Seven rounds passed. Grimmjow had had the upper hand for the majority of them, but Bazz-B had had enough of being toyed with, and aimed to take Grimmjow down as soon as possible. There had been a few separations from the ref on holding, though it was a bit harder to adhere to boxing rules when the two hated each other enough to let such hate slip into their fighting.

The bell rang, and the two were called back to their corners. Bao hadn't seen Grimmjow so...worked. His torso heaved up and down, the skin reddened here and there. "Three rounds left, Grimmjow. Fuckin' finish this." Ichigo added. A woman in skimpy clothes with brands decorating them held a large, square sign up that showed the number of the round as she strutted about the ring.

They were up, and at each other once more. Grimmjow kept the two of them spaced, using it to both catch his breath, and make note of Bazz-B's movements. The two men were growing tired at this point, increasing their need to win.

Bazz-B had Grimmjow against the ropes once more, swinging and swinging, desperate to get a hit in that would keep him that way. Grimmjow let him close in, only to push him away, and gesture for him to keep going, and once he did, Grimmjow exploited it.

Grimmjow landed a hook to an uppercut—its strength was cut because of their closeness—to Bazz-B, who came back with two, lightning-fast punches to Grimmjow's sides.

"There it is..." Meninas informed Bao, to which the latter cut her eyes at the other woman, who seemed moderately satisfied to finally show her.

"What does that matter?"

"He'll chip away at Grimmjow, until he feels that burning feeling of tightening his core to defend from it. You don't think he can hold that way forever, do you?"

Bao bit her lip and looked on, Grimmjow holding his own.

Round eleven out of twelve. Bazz-B's face was considerably swollen, his mouth hung open, heavy breaths passing his mouth guard. His bottom lip was red, as a bit of blood was kept in his mouth until an assist came to him with water, and a bucket.

Grimmjow was being cleaned up in his corner as well. "He's looking tired. He's getting to the point where he won't be able to fight anymore. We don't need a hard knockout, Grimmjow, just one more legal hit to unsteady him, and we're done. Gone. We can go home. Take the win." Ichigo sternly instructed, giving him back his mouth guard.

They faced each other once more, Grimmjow's abdomen burning from the hits it had sustained. He left his face completely open, but not long enough for Grimmjow to take advantage and get a hit in. Thankfully Bazz-B hadn't gotten enough hits in on Grimmjow's face so as to leave many wounds. The same couldn't be said for him, unfortunately.

_There!_ Grimmjow thought, sparing himself the time to ready his abdomen and shield himself from Bazz-B's attack. He went straight forward, releasing every ounce of himself into this punch. He felt it all, the heaviness and stoppage of Bazz-B's face against his glove. The thud his body made from falling. The high-pitched ringing of the bell as the ref hurried between the two of them. Bao and Ichigo's cheers, above all the others that surrounded him. Bazz-B quickly got up, but it was too late, the ref insisted the match was over, earning a soft shove from the incredulous, mohawked man. Grimmjow returned to his corner, earning congratulatory pats on the back, and cleaning up, from his assists. Before he knew it, his gloves were off, and he was handed a shirt with his name on it. Both fighters' corners waited outside the ring, an anxious buzz about the arena.

Grimmjow was declared the winner, by technical knockout.

✦✦✦

As with any win, right after, Grimmjow was harassed by reporters and photographers, but it didn't last long. At least, not with Bao and Ichigo by his side. He'd beaten Bazz-B, and wasn't sure what he wanted to do next. There were two cuts on his face, one underneath his left eye, and another on the brow of his right. Sleep was what he needed now, and he considered it as he and Bao were being driven once more by Ichigo.

His coach pulled up to Grimmjow's house. He looked over his shoulder to see a sleeping Bao in the back seat. Ichigo grimaced. "I'm taking her home."

Grimmjow looked at him. "You're trying too damn hard to keep her away from me. She wants to be around me, and it just fucks with you, doesn't it?"

"Only because she isn't safe around you."

"Whatever," Grimmjow mocked, easing out of the passenger side. He could take her with him now, just to spite Ichigo, but she needed her rest. It was the first fight she'd ever seen Grimmjow in, and the excitement in that day must have worn her out. He wordlessly shut the car door and entered his home as Ichigo pulled off.

"Wake up," A voice called to Bao, one that wasn't as rough and demanding as Grimmjow's. She stirred, turning over in the back seat and opening her eyes. "Grimmjow's back at his house."

"Oh? Thanks for bringing me back, Ichigo," Bao said, halfway through a yawn, before she too made her way into her home.


	11. Wait

Grimmjow wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself during the daytime, besides to go the gym. He didn't have to, today, and thus itched for something to keep him busy. He wanted to stop by Bao's, but something kept him from it. Something told him he shouldn't, not yet. He'd hang out with Ichigo sporadically—sometimes it was strange to separate the 'coach and trainer' aspect of Ichigo and think of him even as a friend; hell, the other man had genuinely reminded him of this fact multiple times throughout their relationship. Although, Grimmjow supposed it was only hard to think of Ichigo as a 'friend' because he saw him more as a brother. He thought the two were past the notion of assigning friendship. His mind turned back to Bao, and he wondered faintly whether she could pick up on the dynamic between the two men.

He should've taken her with him. That was what he'd planned to do with the rest of that night. Taking home a win, and likewise taking Bao. But what they had was supposed to be a nightly thing, not something to be felt at...

He paused, and looked at a nearby clock hanging off of his bedroom wall.

11:45 AM. It was a night time thing. They were a night time thing. Whatever he felt with her had to be felt under cover of a pitch-black sky, with nothing more than moon and street lights through the window to help him see her.

Part of him hoped she would come to him, so he would have no choice but to bring her in, and treat himself to her. Another part waited impatiently for night to come around.

But until then, he had nothing to do. Nowhere to be. He'd already taken a shower and gotten dressed. Maybe he was supposed to go see her. He'd never denied himself things he wanted and could get before. He wanted, and could have her, whenever. Why not now?

✦✦✦

Bao was enjoying the lazy weekday she'd earned. Still in pajamas, she helped herself to oranges and endured daytime television. It was just barely noon, and knowing Grimmjow, he was probably still sleeping. Ichigo was likely out and about, with his friends. He'd invited her, of course, but a day inside was just what she needed.

Her phone buzzed in her lap, and she answered it. "Hello?"

"Let me in. The last few times, people were coming and going."

He must have meant the complex's inner security door in the main hall. She hung up, and left her room to hurriedly take an elevator down. She could have simply buzzed him up, but part of her wanted to be around him, wanted to feel the atmosphere change whenever the two were near each other, wanted to inhale his scent…he was pleasurable for all of her senses and she was comfortable getting that in whatever doses she could.

Grimmjow pocketed his phone, and absentmindedly paced reflective, waxed floors, wondering how he'd gotten in this situation, but not for too long before he saw her round a corner. This woman, this small, delicate woman, was his. He'd claimed her. She needed him to keep her safe, and he hoped she knew that. He took a quick glance at her pajamas: a thin tank top and baggy, plaid pajama pants with the nearest University emblem on them. But something else caught his attention. A silver chain around her neck, its pendent hidden inside her shirt. It looked familiar, but he brushed it off as she approached him.

She tentatively reached forward a bit and loosely grasped his hand—or more so, held his index and middle finger together, as he allowed her to lead the way. "I didn't think you'd come til later, Grimmjow," She admitted quietly.

Grimmjow immediately responded, "I don't plan on it." Bao didn't think it was very funny at all.

"So you're okay with Ichigo knowing, since...well, he does now." Bao asked, having turned the TV off as they again sat in her living room. He was on one end, sprawled comfortably, and she was on the other, closed off, legs pulled up to her chest.

"I told you, I don't care if he knows. He can't stop me, and he knows he can't."

"Apparently." Bao replied, worriedly resting her chin on her hand, elbow on the arm of the couch. Grimmjow turned to look at her. Immaculate as ever. Her only flaw was that she couldn't just take this as it came, and ignore Ichigo; if she was truly uncomfortable around him, she would've ended it before it began, right? She had to be okay with this and want him around, and yet...She kept making everything about Ichigo, and Ichigo's feelings about the two of them. Who cared what he felt; who cared what he thought?

Bao almost wished she was with Ichigo and his friends. At least she'd be having fun, instead of worrying about upsetting Grimmjow. The only good thing she could think about was the fact that Grimmjow made her feel ways she knew no man could meet. Her standards were set impossibly high now, thanks to him, but these encounters came at a price.

"Does your face hurt?" Bao finally asked, earning a scoff. Grimmjow let her come closer as he replied, "This isn't shit compared to him. Did you even see his face?"

"No, but I can see yours." She chanced a laugh, running her fingers over his cuts. They'd long been patched up by a medic. He let her touch his face, giving him time to look her over once more. The pendant had slipped from her shirt, a silver six on the end of the necklace. "That's mine, you know."

"You couldn't wear it, so I thought I might." She confessed, as he took the pendant between his fingers. She could keep it for all he cared. As long as something of his was with her, it sat fine with him.

"Look alright to you?" He asked, teasing, as she finished inspecting his face. "Fine."

A few minutes' silence passed.

✦✦✦

Grimmjow had known she'd missed him. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been so enthusiastic about proving such a thing. Occasionally, he'd chuckle, and looked down to remark on how well she was doing. How cute she looked with him stuffed, down to the base, in her mouth. His hand rested on her head, fingers tangled in her ever-curly locks. She was easy on the eyes, everything about her was soft, foreign to someone like him, and it would take some getting used to. He'd stripped her again, leaving her nude while he was clothed. Was this using her? Probably. But there wasn't time, not now, to think about whether it was right or wrong. What mattered was that he'd get what he wanted.

Every time she'd look down, or look away, or even close her eyes as he inched toward her throat, he gave a slight pull to her hair. He reminded her that while she did this, she had to look him straight in the eye. He wanted, he needed, to see those eyes. He'd take the lead for a few seconds, to pull back and gently tap her lips with the tip, hand firmly gripping the base, a thick vein going up the length of his shaft. "Don't bite." He instructed, as she'd been using her teeth, before sliding his way past her lips once more.

If there were ever a heaven, Grimmjow most certainly would not be let in. But in this moment, he found heaven in her.

A place he'd be welcome any time he wanted.

Her head moved slowly under his hand. He throbbed impatiently, wanting more than this painfully slow attempt to please him. He was grateful, but he needed to show her just how grateful he was. "Come here." His voice was low, coated with want, as he slowly pulled back, his length slick and warm.

Bao obeyed, climbing onto the couch, propped up on his lap. He held the back of her thighs to keep her up, before easing into her. She inhaled sharply, as he was rather thick, but handled his every inch.

He leaned back, one hand clasping her backside, while his free arm rested comfortably on the back of the couch.

"Ride it." He ordered.

If there was one thing he kept on her, it was his necklace. The pendant dangled between her breasts, as if tempting him. Reminding him that no matter where she went, she would belong to him.

He watched her move, impressed. She treated fulfilling his wishes as though her life depended on it, as if his complete satisfaction determined her fate. Her moves melded into each other, hips rolling as she raised her hands to trail her curves, losing them in the curled mass atop her head. Her lips were parted, as if baiting him, eyes half-lidded, darkening the grey they held. She held his shoulders, skimming her hands across them, using them to help her keep balance. Her hands trailed up, returning to his hair as she leaned down. She didn't kiss him, not yet. She could tell, however, that he'd lost himself in her. She had complete control. She dared to let her lips just barely brush against his own, teasing him, playing with the risk. He pulled his free arm down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. She leaned down, trailing her tongue up a tendon in his neck. She bit down, enjoying the jump of him against her teeth. He hadn't expected her to bite, much less tease him like this.

His nerves were on fire. Grimmjow scratched her as she bit him, doing his best to muffle a growl against her skin. His fingers dragged down her back, stopping to adjust her, straightening her position on his lap. _The bitch doesn't know what she's doing to me..._ Grimmjow thought, watching her pull back, playfully biting at the corner of her bottom lip, letting it slide out from between her teeth. She ran her tongue over her lips, tempting him.

_Goddamn it..._

Grimmjow started getting close, especially when he stopped to take control, pulling her into his thrusts. He loved when she rode him, every movement she made was smooth and connected, she put on a show for him. There wasn't much she needed to do to drive him into a frenzy. He stopped her to trail his tongue over her breasts, arms wrapped around the small of her back.

Bao's back stung. He didn't scratch her often, or at all, really, and it hurt. But she couldn't tell him that. Maybe it was a reflex to having been bitten. Either way, she hoped he wouldn't do it again.

By the time his edge died down, he started up again, hands at their usual place on her hips. She took the lead, keeping steady motion. Up. Down. Up, down.

He exhaled, his chest falling slowly as he let his head roll back against the couch, his eyes closing. Everything about her felt good; her skin on his, her warm breath against his neck, even her moans. The shit was euphoric.

Bao took solace in the fact that in only these moments, he felt worth it. To be this close, to have been held, locked, in such a secure embrace against him, to be craved by him, to see him in this way—dominant yet with the smallest hint of vulnerability...how couldn't she indulge? Yes, she recognized that he wanted her in a greedy, physical way, but it was hard to put a stop to if it meant she would return to _these_ moments, where she could express wanting him too. Where they could get lost in one another.

She leaned down, brushing her lips against his jawline, planting kisses sporadically. She could feel a bit of the roughness of stubble. Grimmjow shaved almost daily, as he didn't like beards, or facial hair at all, for that matter. The most he'd ever been able to stand, albeit out of laziness, was a 5 o'clock shadow.

He turned, surprising her, and caught her lips in his own, reaching up and cupping her cheeks. She held the backs of his hands, happy that he finally showed her a bit more attention. Grimmjow wasn't the type to focus on kissing, if he could help it, or if the alternative was getting blown.

Grimmjow broke the kiss with a reluctance that startled her. Bao was now on her back, Grimmjow settling for missionary. One hand was above her, grasping at the leather of the arm of the couch. The other was pressed against the back of her thigh, keeping it up. Soon, the other joined.

He wasn't slow, he wasn't gentle. He fucked her like he hated her. It grew harder and harder to keep a position, ending with her legs wrapped around him, his thrusts reduced to quick, powerful bursts. Closer, closer, he had to get closer...

She called his name, starved moans passing her lips. It was then that he saw her in all her beauty, she was glowing. He'd done this to her, he made her feel this way, though he took a different kind of pleasure to what he used her for. _A beauty. A doll. She's all mine. Mine. ___

____  
_A slut. A whore. All she can do is gag on my cock._  


He hissed as he came hard, spilling into her with no restraint. She had to have known saying his name sent him over.

He took a second before pulling out, their chests heaving. He watched, a lusty smirk spreading as his load dripped from her trembling form, pooling between her and the couch. He supposed he should clean her up.

✦✦✦

Grimmjow let her shower before she changed. It was early in the afternoon, at least 2:20 PM. He'd forgotten entirely about the time; about anything, really, that had nothing to do with the two of them. She returned to him, and a cleaned couch, in a t-shirt, and pastel, striped panties. He was comfortable in the same black joggers, having taken off his jacket and shirt, one leg propped up on the couch, the other on the floor. She sat between his legs, back against his chest. He reached up to brush her hair from his face, before wrapping his arms possessively around her.

"What, nothing to say about Kurosaki?" Grimmjow asked, rhetorically. Bao rolled her eyes, but couldn't fight the smile that played on her lips. She looked up, meeting his eyes, a few shades darker than his hair. He planted a kiss on her forehead. She rolled over, to rest her head on his chest. His heartbeat was slowing as he relaxed. He stroked her hair, hoping she fell asleep soon.

Ichigo may know him better than a lot of people ever had come close to, but he had his share of being wrong about Grimmjow. He kept telling him that Bao wasn't safe around him, that he was dangerous. He didn't need or want Ichigo's support when it came to her, but if there was one thing she wasn't, it was in danger. He'd protect her, that's what he wanted to do, and when he wanted to do something, he'd do it. Especially when it came to proving others wrong.

Minutes passed. She was definitely knocked out, her limp form comfortable, and fast asleep on his chest. He looked down, moving gently so as not to wake her. It was as though this was his last moment to ponder the matter: how did he feel about her? Did he want to keep using her, to keep treating her like the quick fuck that she was, or did he want to make good on the desires of his younger self? He wanted her, he wanted her like _crazy_ and maybe it was time for him to accept that was it was. He deserved anything he wanted—it was the man's personal mantra. He'd settled earlier on what she was to him, but it was truly set in stone, he felt, as he kept her close.

There was no coming back from this.


	12. 12

_Bits and pieces, isolated events throughout Grimmjow’s life, played before his eyes. Some were blurred, some were inconceivably and incomprehensibly stitched together with others, some were without sound. Without color. Too much color. Too much sound. He could see himself watching these memories, feeling his jaw slowly clench._

__

__

_Before he knew it, he watched his younger self sitting on his bed with Halibel. Aizen’s—nothing could ever make him forget an inch of Hueco Mundo, let alone Las Noches. She was patching him up, but something told him this wasn’t the first time. Someone had broken his ar—_

_Tousen. It was Tousen._

_“You’re a bad listener, but that’s okay. You’re okay, right? Good. Don’t make him have to do it again.” She said, too-roughly patting the arm that had just been fixed. This all felt like a lie…he remembered the pat, remembered that it hurt; why wouldn’t it hurt like hell? Why didn’t he yell like he had…and Halibel hadn’t said any of that…he should know. He had been there. Ichigo knocked on the door of his room, and Grimmjow felt a panic. How had he known it was Ichigo, before the latter opened the door? How, even as Ichigo opened the door, did he turn to his adult self, his room was gone, Halibel was gone? This had to be a dr—_

✦✦✦

Grimmjow's eyes shot open. They darted around as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. It came to him, he was at Bao's. Not much time had passed since their lovemaking and subsequent nap, only a few hours. Sunset had begun, characterized by the yellow-orange glow struggling past the blinds of her balcony door.

A dream…a nonsensical dream. Although Halibel was very much real, he didn’t feel as strongly about characterizing her as an enemy as he had with Aizen. She didn’t have what he would assume to be the comforting air of a mother or an older sister, but she dutifully had tended to his various wounds and made sure he ate consistently. She made his years spent in that hellhole a little less bleak…until he’d numbed himself and learned to enjoy the crimes, every now and again.

He slowly came down from such an intense, yet unfocused dream. His jaw hurt—maybe he was grinding his teeth—but he steadied his breathing and reoriented himself, at least mentally.

He felt a slight heaviness on his chest, and looked down to see Bao, still fast asleep. She drooled a bit—a deep sleep indeed.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on her weight pressed against him. How his body was mildly uncomfortable in such a sleeping position for so long. Whatever—a few movements and he’d forget he’d ever had a dream. It would be lost to the recesses of his mind, just like any other one. He exhaled heavily, wrapping his arms around her, giving her a gentle squeeze of his own. He hadn't meant to wake her, but that had been enough. "Grimmjow," She said quietly, eyes still closed.

"What?"

She hadn't called him for anything specifically. Just to hear him respond, really. Bao didn't have much to say to him in these moments they shared between the gym, and the bedroom. He wasn't the pillow-talk kind of guy, and it disappointed her that he wasn't likely to change, even if he cared deeply for her, deep down, underneath his ego.

"Are you hungry?" She asked him, mumbling against his chest. He shifted.

"Why?"

She shrugged.

"I guess." He answered.

Without a word, she slowly pulled herself from him, stood, and walked off to the kitchen. He watched her hips sway with her walk. He looked closely. A few stretchmarks drew across her skin, however faint.

He wanted to take her somewhere. Anywhere. Wherever would be enough that she would cement her being around him.

He rolled over on his stomach to face the kitchen from his spot in the living room. His forearms were crossed over the arm of the couch, his nose and mouth hidden by them as he watched her cook. Occasionally, she'd move out of sight to retrieve something from the fridge, but she came back, always.

To be frank, he liked this, in a way. Their silence didn't feel uncomfortable or forced, and if anything, he wondered what he could do to retain this: what were the pros and cons to having her around?

Maybe he could convince her to stay. He wasn't going to go into specifics with her about dating, but what if he could convince her just to stay at his house on a more...consistent basis? He wouldn't force her, but there had to be a way to make it work. And then, what if she said yes? It was the convenience that mattered, and truthfully, though this wasn't anyone's business but his own, he wanted her to _want_ him, to want to be around _only_ him. If she fell for him, her problem, but it was an arrangement he'd give some thought to.

However, this prompted another thought: what if he fucked up and got her pregnant?

Grimmjow didn't want any children, naturally. He wasn’t a patient, sympathetic man. It was expensive. It was messy. Zero privacy. Not to mention, he'd have to finance the kid from birth, through college, all that. Why spend money on a kid when he could spoil her? Again, no kids.

Marriage was foreign to him. He'd been hit on by a married woman before, and since then, he'd only thought of it as a joke. Aizen was married once, and that chick had met an unfortunate end. Hell, the concept of _him_ ever saying ‘I love you’ was unfathomable. That didn't mean he couldn't think about what she'd look like in a wedding dress. On the other hand, he didn't need an overpriced piece of jewelry on his and her fingers to let people know she belonged to him, right?

Grimmjow didn't think about death often, but that didn't make it any less real and likely. He'd been a long way from Aizen, but the past could catch up on him, and fuck him over given the chance. And this ranged from arrests to being shot, point-blank by some guy that was hired as his replacement. He wanted Bao as far away from Aizen as possible, and that would still be too close.

After a little bit, he got up from the couch, taking a few silent steps toward the kitchen. The oven let out a low hum, the fan and light above the burners both on as she continued preparing their dinner. The moment she turned, he caught her waist in his grasp from behind, and pulled her back to face the oven, refusing to let go, even as she futilely struggled in his arms. He pulled her against him, leaning down into the nape of her neck. Bao gave up for a moment with nervous laughter that wasn’t reciprocated as he hugged her in silence.

Maybe he was attached, but only in a way that deemed her as something, someone, he wanted to keep in whatever way would satisfy him.

✦✦✦

Ichigo hadn't had time to himself to enjoy in a long while. He was home and in his room, at his desktop computer, cleaning up both Grimmjow’s social media and his own. To his relief, he hadn't gotten any calls from Isshin, or his sisters, Yuzu and Karin. Of course, he loved them with all of his heart, and always would. But a break from them was deserved. He chuckled inwardly, leaning back for a moment against his padded chair.

Despite the peace that came with solitude, and the simple, yet lovely things he could do when left to his lonesome, he couldn't help but center his mind back on Grimmjow, and Bao. He hoped for her safety. The man was a natural protector, a guardian to his friends. He'd risked life and limb for them numerous times, and would gladly do it again and again, until he drew his last breath.

But this was different. Bao insisted that she was fine, that she could handle him now. He focused a lot of his time on preventing Grimmjow from seeing her, even going so far as saying it was to help him focus on his career—as this was the best way to keep him from possibly hurting her—but hadn't checked to see if Bao was comfortable with him. At least, not recently. He didn't know how she felt about him. A guy like Grimmjow wasn't capable of love, of that Ichigo was positively certain; why should he let Bao be used? Of all the women he could choose to use near-daily, why did it have to be someone close to Ichigo?

He was so worried about Grimmjow's "love" life, or whatever passed for such a thing, that he'd occasionally forget about his own. He wasn't centered on finding a girlfriend in particular, he never really had been, if only because he so often pushed off long-term romantic shit to pay attention to work. The situations regarding Orihime and Rukia were complicated, and frankly, he didn’t want to think about it. He remembered Urahara had joked to him about Yoruichi. She was pretty, but seemed more _his_ type than Ichigo's. Thinking about it all was exhausting, and unnecessary.

Either way, he had what he wanted. In fact, the taskbar of his screen lit up as she sent him a message.


	13. Separate

Days came and went. Grimmjow noticed the aftereffects of his changing diet, something Bao and Ichigo had collaborated excitedly on. Because of the two of them, he reluctantly stayed on the path to much healthier, although stranger, eating and consistently running every other morning. Ichigo gave him a bit of breathing room, however, and pushed their gym time to about two hours after he was finished with his run.

Ichigo had set up a few bouts, knowing full well that Bao had to put up with a distant, angry Grimmjow that had taken a loss from one of them, but she had no problem giving him space. In fact, that was what she thought was needed: space.

She'd accompanied Grimmjow so often, and it had caused her so much stress, that it was time to give it a break. She ignored his calls, chanced not answering the door, and kept her apartment as quiet as possible. It was scary to have him call repeatedly, and show up unannounced, and frankly, it wasn't romantic. It wasn't wanted. It scared her, but she figured it was best to try ignoring him for a while and seeing if he got the message, instead of outright telling him what she thought. It wasn't likely to end in him obeying her wishes.

The sun had just set over Karakura City. The small town, in the past years, had grown to a bustling metropolis, teeming with citizens, its bright, optimistic mornings and captivating nights rivaled only by cities like New York and Paris.

Another restaurant-based outing was planned for Ichigo and his friends, although a few of them were a bit too busy to be pulled from their schedules. Ichigo was joined by Rukia, Uryuu, Renji, Sado, and Inoue, seated comfortably at a large booth, the seat long, and half-circular.

Bao had come along, but was in the restroom, under the guise of checking her make-up.

She was focused on Grimmjow, despite knowing there was no need. The excitement, the rush of adrenaline from being around such a man was something she'd gotten used to. At first, he would show up to her home, send her texts she wouldn't respond to, and meet her voicemail a lot more than he would have liked to. But when he'd gotten the message and reciprocated, this only left room for her insecurities to grow. What if he wanted someone else? What if he got that someone else, if only to fill the physical need she'd left in him? Bao had ignored him for days, and each day without him dragged on. Maybe she was getting used to being subject to his whims, and even though that wasn't necessarily good.

She sent him a text, inviting him to come eat with them, and left the bathroom, deciding not to check if he'd seen it, or would respond.

"…Yeah, I heard Byakuya's working some desk job somewhere, now?" Ichigo inquired upon Bao's return, clearly in the middle of conversation. He looked to Rukia. She knew she could have explained exactly where her brother worked, but she didn't feel it necessary. "M'hm."

"Are you going to surprise us with another guest, Kurosaki?" Uryuu asked, although not caring in the least whether he was, or wasn't. Their party wasn't getting uncomfortably full, but he wanted to know who he'd have to put up with being around.

Ichigo shook his head, tapping his thumb against his glass. "Nah. Nobody. Are you guys ready to order?"

The others gave him affirmative nods. Bao kept quiet—there was no need to announce that Grimmjow had been invited, and that they should be wary of him coming throughout their meal. Not only would it ruin the atmosphere, but she didn't feel it was her place to make Ichigo's friends get used to him as she had.

✦✦✦

So far, everything was going well. The group was enjoying their night and spent such time together to really focus on connecting, as people. Sado, usually fairly quiet, could find something amusing in the quick banter between Ichigo and Renji, and although it took a lot to make Uryuu laugh, this was one of the rare instances that the two of them proved to be enough.

Bao had joined in on the fun, despite keeping an occasional eye out for Grimmjow. She'd see a flash of blue, and notice it was something else, a hat, a scarf. Someone would come in with Grimmjow's build, but she immediately saw that it wasn't him. By the time an hour had passed, she would have settled to think that he wasn't coming, and that he hadn't even seen her messages, but she was too anxious. Too used to the idea that he'd jump at the chance to see her.

Then, she saw him. He came in wearing his usual frown—in addition to a dark jacket, white shirt, torn jeans and boots—although not so angrily; a step in the right direction. He didn't mind going out to eat, though he could only really stand it for so long. Everything was close, dimly-lit; it made him antsy. And yet, he could find complete comfort with millions of eyes set upon him and the deafening roar of their cheers. Either way, she was surprised to be so happy to see him. The others at the table continued their conversations, Bao tentatively raising her arm to get his attention. She watched as he looked around, feeling her heart quicken as he set that same intense, though calm, gaze upon her, and approached.

Once he reached the table, the conversation halted—near immediately. They looked to Grimmjow not with hate or distaste, but with a surprise that slowly began to bother him. Renji spoke.

"What's he doing here?"

Uryuu hurriedly agreed, as though having waited for someone to speak before he chimed in. "Doesn't seem like his type of scene."

"Yours either, Ishida," Ichigo quickly replied, lifting his drink to his lips. He'd admit curiosity. He hadn't told Grimmjow to come along, or even that they'd be going out to eat. Had Bao?

"Well, we're having fun and I figured since this guy had such a blast with us last time, maybe he'd like to come again...as my guest." Bao chanced, moving over and making room. As he eased down next to her, she continued, lowering her voice just a bit. "Besides, I don't feel right leaving my boyfriend all alone." She knew she was taking a bit of a risk by saying such a thing, but truthfully, she wanted to know what he'd do. His reaction now would define what they were, and whether she should bother with him at all.

And yet...he merely chuckled to himself. Ichigo, however, had heard.

Ichigo's drink caught in his throat, and he coughed, violently. Any attention that may have been put on Grimmjow, went straight to the redhead.

✦✦✦

The night carried on, and the feeling of Grimmjow's odd addition to their group wore off after time. Soon enough, they forgot he'd even showed up, save for Ichigo. Ichigo was uncomfortable enough with him visiting her whenever he pleased, saying rude things to her, treating her as though she were some type of object, and even though Grimmjow seemed possessive and protective of her, it all just seemed rather fake to Ichigo. False. A front to get what he really wanted out of her, which had to be working.

He'd have to talk to Grimmjow at some point about this. He wasn't right for her. He was far from it, and wasn't likely to change for anyone or any reason.

Sado spoke, and odd enough, to Grimmjow, stopping the conversation and eating, as it had been some time since their meals arrived. Grimmjow decided to eat before coming.

"I saw your fight with Bazz-B," He started, immediately getting Grimmjow's attention. He'd been sat at the end, opposite Sado, with an arm draped around his apparent girlfriend. He wasn't sure how he felt about being declared such a thing, as boxing was the only consistency in his life, but he hadn't turned down the idea. Hell, _one_ of them had to act on whatever they were; for all he cared, she could think of him however she pleased—it was his decision, ultimately. He stared at Sado, waiting for him to continue.

"How well do you think you'll do in a street fight? Bare-knuckle, obviously."

Grimmjow huffed, and pulled his arm back to lean forward, on the table. "That a challenge?"

"No. Simple question."

The blue-haired man inhaled and raised his right hand just slightly, looking it over. "Well..."

Sado was a relatively big guy, and someone Grimmjow supposed he could take somewhat seriously, both in and out of a fight. Renji, on the other hand, he knew had to be a joke. Fighting and beating him wouldn't teach him anything he didn't already know. Plus, it'd be embarrassing. Like fighting an infant.

"Fine, considering they're how I got started. I remember this one guy, pretty fucking loud. Obnoxious. He wanted to fight me after taking some moral high ground, talking shit about things I've done, people I've dealt with. He could handle himself, just not against me. I went easy on him, but only because there were orders to. Ichigo remembers him."

"Who?" Ichigo asked, brows furrowed in confusion. Grimmjow leaned back. "The guy that came in the gym. Apparently he was looking for me. He found me, but this time, no reason to show mercy. I guess he told you some bullshit about wanting to be there to help coach." He scoffed, looking off to the side. Ichigo was surprised. Grimmjow had known that man beforehand?

✦✦✦

Ichigo been patient all night long, and waited until the right moment to confront Grimmjow. As everyone had gotten into their cars, Bao waited in hers as the others drove off. She started the car, and leaned back to see Grimmjow and Ichigo standing in front of the restaurant, to the side. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but Ichigo's movements suggested more than enough. Grimmjow merely stood there, occasionally gesturing back to the car, and thus, her. Sometimes they mimicked each other's movements, as if calling them into question, but the longer she watched, the more she assumed Ichigo was frustrated. Disgruntled. Grimmjow's body language was ironically subtle, but he looked ready to lash out at Ichigo at any moment.

She honked the car horn, getting both of their attention. Grimmjow joined her a moment later, Ichigo staring after the car before shaking his head, and going to his own.

"What was that about?" Bao asked, eyes on the road as she backed out and began the drive home.

"Nothing. Bitching about fights." Grimmjow clearly reduced everything Ichigo said to the most simplistic possible take. He wanted to hear no more of it, so if he could get Bao to feel as he did about Ichigo's interference, everything would be a lot easier. _Lying_ was easier.

She pursed her lips, and Grimmjow groaned, having caught her expression. "What? Don't worry about it, don't even bring it up."

"Nothing, nothing; I won't." She replied, quietly, drumming her fingers impatiently against the steering wheel.

"Good."

Silence. More silence. The low hum of the engine, the occasional, soft consistency of the blinker. Neither reached for the radio or connected their phone to the car. It wasn't completely uncomfortable, but Bao could do without it.

Grimmjow's elbow rested against the door, hand covering his mouth. Just as he thought to speak, she did so first.

"I mean...just in case you thought I was kidding or whatever," _God, I've _got_ to be making a mistake here._ "I really...like y—

I mean, like, spending—

when you're around, Grimmjow. We can keep doing whatever you want, I guess, but I'm glad you showed up." She kept cutting herself off, correcting herself, trying to phrase it in a way that didn't out her appreciation on _some_ level for him. She wasn't like him; she couldn't just not care.

"Hn...don't say that."

He muttered softly, looking away now. If she kept that up he might slip up and care about her. Though overall, did he?

Sure he did, in a way. He refused to say it, but he cared, if that meant he could have her, and if caring was what she needed to let him. He wanted nothing more than to have her in whatever way would satisfy her. He wouldn't be doing it just to shut Kurosaki up, he'd be doing it for her, and for himself.

"Well, why not?" She pressed, now at a red light, despite really, _really_ not wanting to be. The longer this ride lasted, the more likely she'd dig too deep.

He didn't reply. He merely raised his hand and shook it a bit, not wanting to repeat himself. Bao sighed, feeling her stomach knot with embarrassment, unable to ignore her own foolish words, circling, replaying in her mind. She should've known better than to tell him that shit.

_Must have been a mistake._


	14. Finally

Bao pulled up in front of Grimmjow's house. He hadn't looked at her once, and stayed silent. Having to sit, to stew in the atmosphere she'd created by _daring_ to be sincere had finally come to an end. The sooner he got away from her, the better. At least then, she could focus on feeling better about it by herself.

She put the car in park and kept it on. "Go."

"Come with me."

"For what?"

"Just—" Grimmjow started, cutting himself off. _Stop, just, stop; do it because I told you to._ He'd walked to the restaurant, rather than taking his own car, if only to ruminate on what he was doing with her. The walk, being at the restaurant, and the drive back would all have given him time to think about it, and here, now, he'd made up his mind.

Now, he'd gotten out, practically slammed the passenger side door shut—despite not meaning to—and briskly walked to her side, opening the door. "Come on. It won't take that long."

Bao scoffed, softly, and looked away. She knew he wouldn't give her too much longer to hesitate, so she reluctantly shut the car off, unbuckled, and got out. Whatever he absolutely _needed_ her to see or do couldn't have been worth it, but the way he asked wasn't with the usual forcefulness or meanness; there was no urgency. _Ugh._ He shut the car door behind her and followed soon after, as she quickly made her way up the trail before them.

The two found themselves in his home seconds later, and the moment he turned to lock the door behind her, she gestured, with a half shrug. "What, then, Grimmjow?"

He straightened his posture and set his jaw before turning around, as if fed up with her attitude. He leaned against the door, arms folded defiantly across his chest. He leaned his head to the side quickly, gesturing to the couch. "Look."

She saw nothing out of the ordinary given the few times she'd actually been over, and quickly surmised that he was wasting her time; it was a strange, roundabout way of getting her into bed, if that was his intention, and she'd rather he either go for it, or let her go home. She held her hand to her hip. A thin, balled-up blanket on the couch. Some throw pillows. His usual mess.

She silently walked further into the living room and inspected his laptop, sat atop the glass table in front of the couch. Bao sat, and lifted it into her lap. _Dates...?_ He'd pulled up multiple tabs, so many that the words were condensed. The last one that he was focused on was a map, and estimated time of arrival. He had booked them a room, or at least, was planning on it, at an island resort called Lotus Beach.

"I don't care what Kurosaki says to you about me," His voice instantly drew her attention. He spoke with his head leaned back against the door, eyes to the ceiling. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm the only one who's doing shit to prove things to you. There's only two things you need to understand: Don't believe everything he spouts, and..." He looked to her. "Don't question me all the time."

✦✦✦

"Ichigo?" Bao spoke through the receiver. She'd been over for hours now, but had excused herself to place the call while Grimmjow made himself comfortable in the living room. Ichigo answered the phone with a yawn, having been asleep all this time. He sounded drowsy, but she didn't care.

"What?"

"What do you have against Grimmjow?" Bao considered it a fair question, given that in all the time she and Ichigo had known each other, he hadn't made mention of Grimmjow until the day _they_ were supposed to meet.

"Bao, it's too late for this, you need to go to bed...talk to me about this in the morning, I've been meaning to anyway."

"No, Ichigo, just try and wake up a little. I need to say this to you now and get it done with."

"Yeah, I figured you'd changed your mind after you called him your boyfriend."

"Well, he didn't look mad about it, or whatever." Bao reasoned, doing her best to see the more positive angle of having taken such a risk.

"My point is, he didn't seem to know."

"I know…but I felt like it needed to be done."

"Are you at his house?"

"You know I am."

"What did he say to you about it once he got home? Or even in the car?"

"Nothing."

"I doubt it." Ichigo replied. He kept stern. She was right, it was time that this ended, and he let her do what she wanted, but the thing was, he didn't want to be in any kind of "I told you so" situation should things go awry.

Bao took a deep breath. "Look, Ichigo, I know you know him a lot better than I do, but I'm gonna have to ask you to just trust me on this. If I'm putting myself in danger, setting myself up for disaster, that's what's gonna happen, and after that, you can go on and on about how right you were, and I won't say a word. He's your friend, isn't he? Can't you trust him with this, with me?"

Ichigo, at this point, knew he had no choice but to let her do what she wanted. He was concerned with her wellbeing, that was sure enough, though if she was intent on finding out for herself, then so be it. Grimmjow would disappoint and hurt her and not care. Grimmjow never changed. But if she could manage to help him do so, then...

"Fine, fine. Go on, then." Ichigo said. His voice was a bit muffled as he slid his free hand down his face with exasperation. He wasn't angry with her, or even with Grimmjow, now. He was angry with himself for ever having introduced them. Perhaps it was the fact that it was a girl Ichigo was close to. Then again, that didn't make much sense, seeing as he'd never given Rukia, Inoue, or Tatsuki any looks except, well… _that_ look. What mattered most was that Grimmjow's career stayed first priority. Anything else shouldn't be Ichigo's concern; at least, that was what he kept telling himself.

They exchanged a few more words, and hung up. Bao turned and entered the house once more, relieved. She didn't blame him for worrying about her, and was appreciative that he cared enough to, given that despite being his own share of loud or rude or willing to fight, Ichigo _did_ have a soft spot for or inclination toward protecting the women in his life, but there had been enough concern on his part.

"Grimmjow?" Bao called, venturing down the hallway, seeing as the living room was empty. She looked to his room and saw that he was standing still in front of the dresser, having been distracted by his phone. She stood in the doorway to watch him for a while. He changed now only to a pair of gray, plaid pajama pants. Her eyes briefly went to his tattoo once more, if only now to put it in perspective. The semi-diagonal scar drawn across his skin, the number permanently seared onto his back—as if a brand, the scars across both of his wrists…there was so much to Grimmjow that she knew he was hiding, as someone isn't this bitter, this guarded, without reason, right?

"Grimmjow." She called.

"What?"

"Thanks, again, I guess." She said softly, shakily. She held to the door frame, idly drumming her fingers against the wood. Though he'd stood still, he looked as though that had caught him off guard, if only a bit. He straightened up and looked over his shoulder at her. After a moment, he beckoned to her, to come closer. She obeyed and was happy to feel the warmth radiating from him as he wrapped an arm around her. He moved her in front of him, rested his chin on her head, and looked into the mirror atop the dresser, at the two of them.

She took gentle hold of his arms as they now held her. Bao chose not to say anything. He didn't have to speak, but she hoped he would.

"For what?" Grimmjow inquired, unblinking gaze set on the mirror. He looked into his own eyes rather than hers, mouth hidden by Bao's untamed hair. He knew full well she meant to thank him for arranging this trip for the two of them, but hearing her say it mattered.

She scoffed, playfully hitting his arm. He'd be civil with her one moment and mean another, but this...this was unexpected. Everything before, in the car, seemed so small and meaningless now. "You _know_ what. I'm...you didn't need to do that," Bao replied, letting it sink in. Hell, should she be happy? Scared? He'd done this to surprise her, no doubt, but she hadn't been completely alone with him to such a degree, and it made her wonder what she had done to encourage this. She looked into his reflection's eyes, to see they were already staring back at her. She swore their gaze softened upon her flashing a smile at him.

"I know I didn't." He teased. None of what she said would change that because he wanted her, he wanted her in extravagance. That was one of the reasons why he'd organized the trip for them—he wanted her to be excited because of him, to feel as though nobody else could do what he could do for her. And maybe, just maybe…

If he kept her that way, she wouldn't have time to think about doing better.

"Well, you did anyway. Maybe this is just what you need to start warming up to me." Bao joked back, knowing the two had been more than intimate on several occasions. Grimmjow, on the other hand, seemed to only _now_ realize how quickly this was all going…and how little control he may have had.

"So you like me, huh?" He raised his hand, and before she could stop him, he gently, playfully pinched her cheek, holding it until she futilely tried to remove his hand. "What if I don't like you?"

"Then…" she replied, her speech slowed just a bit by his hold. "I guess Ichigo was right."

He released her.

_Goddamn it._ Grimmjow looked elsewhere, did anything he could to avoid her gaze, as he squeezed her tightly to his chest. She laughed, although admittedly his hold was all but crushing.

✦✦✦

"Yes, I'm sure. He was out like a light. Are you sure you don't want to get a place for the night? It doesn't have to be at your house, y'know." Bao had stayed at Grimmjow's the night before, and quietly slipped out early the following morning. She now drove down the hazed, though equally-crowded city streets, en route to the mall. Her phone sat on a mount above the radio, displaying her current call. Granted, she should have been on this days before, but with everything that had happened in the past few weeks, she hadn't the time to think about it:

Grimmjow's birthday.

Ichigo was on the line, and he was more than happy to help her out. It was her idea to have a party for him, so why not indulge it a bit? Neither he nor Grimmjow regarded the latter's birthday as anything other than a regular day; Ichigo would usually give him the day off, _maybe_ grab a gift card, or send a lazy "happy b-day" text, and Grimmjow himself would alternate: some years he'd go to the strip club. Others, he'd relax all day just to go out at an absurd hour and get shitfaced. It was all the same to him. But now, Ichigo acknowledged that since Bao was involved, she'd want to do something nice for him.

She didn't give him instructions, and advised he decorated as he pleased—mostly in a way that wouldn't be a bother to take down later that night. For now, however, it was very early in the morning, and the two were preparing so as to have lots of time before Grimmjow even bothered to get up.

"Look, it's fine. It's no trouble. He probably won't even be expecting it at my house, that idiot," Ichigo joked, balanced on a small step-ladder to hang up a few balloons. He'd gone with a simple color scheme of blue, white, and black. "Where are you now?"

"Downtown. I wanted to look for a charger case for him, something nice for his phone. Between you and me, the thought of him dropping it makes me paranoid. He doesn't use a case, or anything."

"Don't buy the guy anything too expensive. No tablets, new consoles, whatever. Not being bossy, he's just clumsy sometimes and will no doubt crack the screen into a million pieces or outright break the whole thing."

Bao scoffed, turning onto a ramp toward the parking area connected to the mall. Ichigo continued and made sure the two were on the same page. Specifics were important, but Bao faded in and out when it came to listening. Suddenly, she had a question of her own, and caught Ichigo off guard.

"Who should we have keep him busy? He'll probably know it's his birthday the minute he wakes up. Not seeing either of us will already let him know..."

"You're right. Hadn't thought of that. Let's just leave it alone, Bao. I'm sure it'll work out. Even if he knows, he doesn't know there'll be a surprise party, or anything. Don't worry about it."

✦✦✦

A sweaty Grimmjow opened the front door to his house. He was clad in a dark gray UnderArmour shirt, sleeves stopping just above the elbows, and sweatpants.

That must have been what he'd settled on for this year; a run.

He was financially set; a birthday wasn't really different seeing as he could get whatever he wanted when he wanted it without it being his birthday. Bao had been gone all day, from morning, to now—7 PM. She'd sent him texts that he'd look over, but wouldn't respond. Not because he'd been busy running, but because he liked the attention. She sent him little hearts, kaomoji, and pictures of things she saw while she was out. Apparently, Bao had gone to run errands and wouldn't be back until later. Grimmjow thought to go straight to the gym, to bother Ichigo in some way, but he was busy, as well. It was only then that he realized the two of them were large parts of his life, if not the only two.

He'd never admit it, but Kurosaki was all he needed, regarding friendships. Bao's love, he was slowly beginning to accept as deserved and needed. Ultimately, she grew on him. He had no other friends, he wanted no other friends. He knew to his core that these two were the only people that he thought were truly worth something, in their own right. They could stand him, they never let anything he did get them down or discourage them. This did not mean that he wanted them to get used to his rotten behavior, just that if they could handle him the way he was, he could work on himself with peace of mind. They gave him this, and he wouldn't find it in anyone else.

An hour passed, and he found himself dressed comfortably, and seated on the couch, staring at the TV. He settled for some black and white monster movie from the '30's initially, mostly as noise, but changed his mind, and figured it best to sharpen his skills even when stationary. Switching to ESPN, he kept a watchful eye over recaps of past fights, taking in the technique of those he knew were worse, and those who were "better" than him.

He could pay attention yet was a little antsy. He liked being alone with his thoughts, alone and thus giving him time to do what he wanted. Despite being gone, it was nice that Bao at least kept him up on what she was doing without him having to ask. He didn't respond too much, merely wanted to bask in it. He thumbed through their texts, looking at all the pictures, but it didn't last long before it was interrupted by gentle vibrations, and a picture of his love filling the screen.

"What?" Grimmjow answered, although not as abrasively as he usually would.

Bao smiled, now at Ichigo's house, whom she'd told to keep silent as she made the call and carefully wrapped up the last of Grimmjow's presents. Ichigo had held off on giving his friends the 'okay' before they no doubt noisily came over.

"I missed you. What have you been up to all day?" She asked, leaning back for a moment, she and Ichigo settled on the living room carpet. Grimmjow grunted.

"Nothing. TV, running."

"Oh, alright; can you meet me at Ichigo's then?"

"Why? Where's Kurosaki?"

"He and Inoue went to a movie, so he shouldn't be back until later on. I was gonna head home when they came back, but I figured I'd just stay here, y'know?"

Grimmjow chuckled, and sat up now, leaning his arm on his knee. "I guess. We can probably get some use out of _his_ bed."

Bao gently bit her lip. Thankfully, Ichigo couldn't hear the conversation, and was in no position to say anything. She played along, although lowered her voice just a bit.

"I'm…sure we could, but we shouldn't." She cooed into the receiver, with a soft laugh.

"Alright," Grimmjow closed his eyes, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "I'll be over in a little bit. Not like I can't make you change your mind, woman."

✦✦✦

He'd ran when it was still hot outside. Just barely over eighty, but now, as the sun slowly began to set, it had significantly cooled. He didn't mind either way, and drove down the longer route to Ichigo's without much reason to rush. She was waiting for him, she'd invited him over…it was something he could get used to, of course.

Looking back on it, Grimmjow knew that the way he'd come to her was fairly rude and highly unconventional. Any other normal, perhaps more respectful man would've looked at him with disbelief, then again, any of those other men would've been polite to her, waited on her hand and foot. He didn't blame them for being different than he was, he just didn't see the point. He valued being direct. But he did see importance of Bao being comfortable with him, and things he did.

Was it too soon to ask her to move in? She wasn't his manager and merely part of the crew, so it wouldn't be too strange; hell, people might even be surprised that he was seeing someone. He just wanted her around. It was as simple—and yet, as complicated—as that.

Inevitably, he thought of her curves, the subtle things she did that drew his attention, the natural beauty she held that he could reach out and bring close to him. The way she bit her lip when she concentrated on something, the way she cocked her hip when waiting impatiently for him, the way she pouted when he denied her something. The meticulous way she applied her makeup, her masks, whatever all that shit was. Then there were the things she did that made him laugh. The way she wrinkled her nose at him when he said something lewd. The way she crossed her arms when trying to defy him. When she tried to avoid looking at him, turning her back to him like a child. The two hadn't had the most time together, but he'd recognized patterns. Sometimes they'd argue, and once, he yelled at her, coupled with hurling a glass at the wall, just to see something shatter.

It was sudden, loud, something that came out of nowhere—something he'd held in, as he didn't want to upset her. He made her cry, and she'd weakly hit him, calling him a bastard, an asshole, whatever she could say through her sobs. He apologized soon after—something that came in the form of hugging her tightly, and refusing to let go until her sobs silenced—and took note: he hated making her cry. He hated the sound, he hated how it started slow, then would just keep going.

Even with a bright, red nose and teary, blurred eyes, she was still so pretty. His doll of a woman.

He reached Ichigo's house and pulled into the underground lot. If she really didn't want to live with him or work out _some_ sort of arrangement, he wouldn't force her. She had every right to tell him when she was uncomfortable, and demand he stop immediately. Whatever; holding her was enough.

Once he'd made his way up, Grimmjow found Ichigo's room number and knocked twice, loudly.

No answer. He grimaced. Maybe she was in the shower, or something, but it didn't sound like there was any sort of noise coming from the inside. He tried the knob, and much to his surprise, she'd left Kurosaki's door unlocked. Though he knew she knew he was coming, he didn't like that she left herself so unsafe just because he was on the way. Though Kurosaki's home wasn't in a bad neighborhood, anything could and would happen: time with Aizen had taught him that.

The only light source came from a bulb above the oven, annoying him greatly as he nearly tripped over various shoes in the entryway. He felt the wall for the nearest light switch, and the very second after, was met with dozens of faces, appearing out of nowhere, making noise and yelling: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

He jumped, and grabbed the first person that his body deemed a bit too close. By the time he slammed this person against the wall, he saw that it was Renji. He recognized the faces; Kurosaki's dipshit friends.

Renji threw his hands up, keeping them near his face as he saw Grimmjow hold his shirt tightly, other hand pulled back, fist at the ready. "Wait; it's us! Ichigo's here too, look!"

Renji frantically pointed away from the two of them. Indeed, Ichigo was here, and so was Inoue, and a few others he'd forgotten the names of. He released Renji, who exhaled before closing the door behind Grimmjow, who angrily paced towards Ichigo.

"Are you out of your mind, you goddamned idiot?!" Grimmjow didn't like surprises, and neither Bao nor Ichigo knew this. This was his fault for having humored the two—sure, he knew it was his birthday, he just didn't like surprises. At all. Ichigo scoffed. "Christ, didn't know you'd be so damn ungrateful. Did you forget your own birthday?" He shot back; Grimmjow didn't answer, but calmed down soon enough.

He looked past Ichigo to see a nervous Bao, holding a shiny crown, while Inoue carried his cake.

✦✦✦

Grimmjow reluctantly donned the crown Bao had gotten for him, and had opened several presents, all in the living room. The others were acting more kind to him than he'd expected, which was odd to Grimmjow. Of course, Kurosaki's friends were to at least treat him with some sort of respect, as he was expected to, to them. Grimmjow himself didn't care how they treated him, but Kurosaki must have said something to them, holding to his "don't start any shit between each other" policy.

Inoue and Tatsuki had bought him a watch—matte black, with only silver hands and marks for twelve, three, six, and nine—which he'd probably neglect wearing, or lose, but he acknowledged needing one. A new set of headphones, a phone case, a couple new games, and a few gift cards were one of the many gifts he'd received from the others. He couldn't bring himself to say thank you to anyone, or express it the way they could understand, so when they looked to him, he only nodded. He couldn't thank Bao now, so he simply wrapped an arm around her to pull her in, and planted a kiss on her cheek. The others felt the need to look away, as they'd never seen Grimmjow in such a way with anyone. It'd take some getting used to.

Rukia lit the candle to his cake. No one knew how old he was except for Ichigo, and thus, Bao. They hadn't told her, so she merely gave Inoue candles, and let her decorate the cake as she pleased.

They carefully passed the cake to Grimmjow, and as he looked at the twenty, separate flames dotting its surface, Bao spoke.

"Make a wish." She chuckled, teasing him.

"Try not to say it out loud." Renji joked. Grimmjow made a face. He never took these things seriously, and hadn't had an actual celebration for his birthday, so he decided to take a moment and think of something.

He thought, and thought, and thought.

"Grimmjow?" Bao questioned, as he seemed lost in his own thoughts, gaze directed out the window. He smirked, and blew out the candles. Something must have come to his mind, but what?

Grimmjow's impromptu party had gone well, and thankfully, everyone had had a pretty good time. Grimmjow spent most of his time on the couch, watching the others drink, dance, and talk. Bao had gone home with him, and of course, the sex had been _mind-blowing_. Even now, as they laid in his bed, Grimmjow holding her close to his chest—one hand behind his head, the other stroking the skin of her shoulder—he thought to say something before she slept.

"Thanks." His voice was lowered with sleep; it had been a long day for the two of them.

"For what?"

"You _know_ what."

She laughed, running her fingers down his scar-ridden chest, before snuggling ever closer to him; she then sighed contentedly and eased into sleep against him.

Grimmjow began to drift off, as well. He could hear himself having asked her, _"what if I don't like you?"_ , all to see what she'd say. He didn't care that she joked about Ichigo being right, he didn't care about the idea of Ichigo being right, because it was unrealistic. No, he cared that she seemed to want this as much as he did. She wanted this to work; she wanted him to…love her. He was stuck with her now.

And that was exactly how he wanted it.


End file.
